Northman's Off Rivington
by Zigster
Summary: One night while Sookie is bar hopping with some friends on the Lower East of New York City she runs into, literally, a towering mystery of a man. AU - AH. Eric/Sookie
1. Chapter 1: Into the Night

I stumbled out of the dirtiest bathroom I had ever set foot in, into the smoke filled atmosphere of what only could be described as a classic Lower East Side dive bar. Not that I'd really know, having grown up in the south. I just assumed after having been dragged to five in one night, and being told so enthusiastically by sweaty guitarists. For some reason they liked dives? It was beyond me. New York was obviously already getting to me because I heard myself say "you've seen one, you've seen 'em all," back to the one in the plaid button down.

Tray's band had played a gig at a bar on Avenue B (seriously? They couldn't of thought of a better name?) about six hours prior and Amelia and I had been trailing behind him and his crazy new fans (in heels!) on the cobblestone streets of New York ever since. I had never seen so much of New York, and I didn't know if I really liked it yet. I had expected the buildings to all be taller and glassier, but Plaid Button-down also informed me that "midtown" was where most of the skyscrapers were, and not down in "LES". I had also expected all the streets to be numbered and organized, like the grid I thought New York was planned around. But again, another surprise, "the grid" only officially started above 14th street and apparently we hadn't even gotten close to it all evening.

I pulled out a tube of Purell from my purse and rubbed my hands, my arms and even my exposed shoulders with it, promising myself a hot bath the second I got back to the hotel. I could feel the grim sticking to me, and I didn't even want to think what kind of potential diseases I had exposed myself to by using the bathroom in the first place. Damn us women and our tiny bladders.

After composing myself in the back hallway I walked out into the dim red light of the bar looking for Amelia. I knew she was enjoying herself. She was a party girl and had loved the nightlife of New Orleans before being forced to leave because of Katrina. I was glad she was getting a kick out of tonight. It was her good spirits and my happiness for Tray and his band that kept the smile plastered on my face. Otherwise I would have grabbed a cab home hours ago.

I finally found her blonde head bobbing up and down in animated conversation with Plaid Button-down at the other end of the bar. Tray was playing 'Rock Band' with his actual rock band and I laughed at parody of the image it created from earlier this evening. As I walked towards both of them, scooting through the dense crowd of late-nighters, I felt a large hard thwack at the back of my head. I went flying forward and into a group of patrons, while liquor and ice flew up into the air along with my feet. After being hit with something rock solid, I was really disconcerted to find that I had landed into something equally as solid. A human. A monster of one. My nose was squished into his granite torso for a moment before two large warm hands wrapped around my arms and pulled me upright. I still felt like I was on the floor since my line of view only came to his chest. I raised my eyes to see who the monster of a man who had caught me was, and after looking, up, up, up... I finally found his eyes.

I was transfixed for a moment, lost in their ice blue before realizing my manners, shaking my head and saying a hurried, "ohmygod, thank you! I'm so sorry for..." but before I could get out the last bit of my extremely eloquent speech the force from the blow fully hit me. My hand reached up to the back of my head instinctually and I cringed at the pain searing through my mind. Mr. Granite Pecks was still holding on to my arms and involuntarily, I leaned my forehead on his chest again. It was warm and despite his hard body, his black cotton shirt was soft. I felt a rumble in his chest as he leaned over to inspect the back of my head with a "hmmm." The vibrations were a soothing sensation for my aching head, but the next sounds that came out of his mouth were more a shock than anything else.

He didn't yell. He didn't have to. You could tell from cool his voice, that dripped with distain, he meant business. In this case, the business of a foreign language, since I couldn't understand a word he said to the barback behind me, responsible for hitting me in the head with an empty keg. I wondered how hard he had swung the damn thing to cause such a blow before hearing the keg in question hit the ground with a loud thud. The barback then stomped past us with a grunt as he left the bar. He had been fired, I heard it come from his head, along with a few choice expletives.

Wait, fired? Did I hear that right? How did Mr. Granite Pecks have the right to fire him? I realized my head was still on his chest, and that I should probably lift it up and ask, since I wasn't getting anything from his mind that wasn't in a foreign language.

So, I looked up, up, up again and when I came to his face I asked slightly dazed, "Did you just fire him?"

"Yes," was all he said. There was a small smug smirk at the corner of his mouth.

I waited for more of an explanation but didn't get any. I didn't know how long we continued to stare at each other, but the noises around the bar had hushed and the awkward silence brought me back to my senses.

"Amelia?" I called out. I wasn't aware of it, but she was already at my side and touched my shoulder hesitantly. I jumped.

"Alright," she said, taking control, "lets get you to the hotel for some sleep. Come on folks, the viewing party is over. Sheww, sheww!" She waved her hands around parting the crowd.

"Thank you sir for catching our girl here, sorry bout the disturbance," she said to Mr. Granite Pecks before ushering me out of his grip and towards the door, with Tray not far behind. I turned my throbbing head back round to try and say "thank you" one more time but the words didn't leave my mouth. I just stared again at his ice blue eyes. They were easy to stay focused on since he towered above the rest of the crowd and his ultra pale features made him almost glow in the dim red light. For some reason, I really didn't want to leave.


	2. Chapter 2: Elephants and Rose Water

"You can close your mouth now Sookie," Amelia said.

"Huh? oh ya," I forced my jaw to close. I looked around, I was in the back of a car. "Where are we?" I asked a little shocked.

"Wow girl, you are out of it. We're in a cab silly. We're heading back to the hotel," she then addressed Tray, "Do you think we should take her to a hospital instead?"

Tray shook his head. "Nah, there has to be an on site doctor at the hotel, we'll see if he can check her out before she goes to bed. I'm sure it's just a bad bump. She's just dazed and confused cause of Lurch back there."

Amelia laughed, "I know right? I thought she was gonna start drooling." They had obviously forgotten that I was in the car. I cleared my throat and Amelia cased her tactless prattling.

20 minutes and 24 bucks later we were at our hotel and I was really aching for a pretty white pain pill. Anything would suffice. Tray's band thankfully had some contraband and provided me with a nice Percocet free of charge. Bless them. I was too out of it to actually reprimand them for taking drugs as a recreation. They were grown boys and I wasn't their mother. I actually said a silent prayer thanking God someone was smart enough to smuggle some pain killers into the hotel!

After about three minutes I was out like a light. The band could have started a mosh pit on my bed and I wouldn't have felt it. The draw back to the magical pain killer however, was the trippy dreams it caused.

I found myself sitting on top of a lavender elephant, walking down the center of an alley off of Rivington Street. We were headed towards a dead end, and I was getting weary, wondering if my elephant would walk right through the wall. But as we approached, an elegant mahogony doorway presented itself, surrounded by hundreds of twinkling christmas lights. I smiled at it while my elephant rubbed the back of my hand soothingly with its trunk. He was such a good boy, always bringing me to the best places.

When we stopped, my Moroccan usher, Karim (who had been leading us) helped me down off of my elephant, and I kissed them both to bid them adieu. Karim sprinkled rose water over me for good luck and I walked ahead with confidence, smelling of rose petals and warm African air.

The door opened of its own accord when I reached it and the burgundy carpet that I had been standing on slid through, carrying me with it. It stopped short however, without warning and I flew forward into the room, sailing past mounted animal heads and stuffed birds of prey as I went. Ahead of me was the most magnificent busts of a stag that I had ever seen. With 14 points sprouting out of its elegant head and an ice blue stare only he could have. Before realizing it the antlers had turned into two large hands and the ice blue eyes that had once belonged to the face of the stag now stared out from the face of a man. Blonde hair floated around his fine features and a smug smirk played at his lips.

I floated into him, as if in slow motion. His hands caught me and circled themselves around my body as my face buried itself into the pale skin of his neck. He hummed into my hair and I breathed in the scent of his skin, a mixture of clove and smoke. It was lovely. He held me for a long time, rocking me to sleep and playing with my hair. Everything was perfect until the floorboards above started to creak. Louder and louder they got until I couldn't stay calm in his arms anymore and looked up, wondering who was tap dancing on my dreams.

The room went black before I could look back at the beautiful man's face again and I found myself blinking away at the light pouring into my eyes from the beside lamp. The creaking above me was real. The people in the flat upstairs had decided that 9 in the morning was the perfect time for Flamenco dancing. If I had any say in the matter I have throw their shoes out the window. Damn. Them. All!

Lordy, did my head hurt! Not only was I nursing a bump the size of Vancouver on the back of my skull, I also had a hangover. Combined wit noisy neighbors I was ready to go on a killing spree. I needed to get some water into my system and fast, before finding the greasiest foods possible to help with my uneasy stomach. I lurched myself off the bed and shuffled my way to the bathroom before realizing that I was in a different state and likely to have trouble digesting the strange water. Back out into the main room I went, searching desperately with half open eyes for a mini bar or a large bottle of courtesy water.

I found one, but it wasn't in the mini fridge. It was encased in Amelia's arms as she slept, being held like a baby. Damn babies I need water, now! I grabbed the bottle out of her arms and chugged it back so fast I was done with the remaining liquid before Amelia could even bitch about me having woken her.

"Sorry Amelia," I said without absolutely no sincerity at all. "I needed water, badly! Can you hear the people upstairs? What the hell are they doing?"

"It's the band," she said as she rolled over the the sofa, burring her face into a pillow. The rest of the sentence she just thought at me.

"They've been playing Dance Dance Revolution since 6!?" I was astounded, where the hell were they getting the energy?

_They never went to bed_, she thought at me again.

"Oh jesus. Alright come on, I need food."

_Two minutes. _

"The sooner you get some grease into your system, the sooner the hangover will go away," I mused right above her ear in my sweetest tone. It did the trick. Amelia rolled off the couch and walk/crawled into the bathroom a moment later.

_Manipulative bitch_, I heard her think as she started to brush her teeth. I chuckled softly to myself, Amelia was always so charming when she had a hangover.


	3. Chapter 3: Confession over Dirty Rice

The girl working the front desk had grown up in south Louisiana it turns out, so when we asked her where to find some good Southern food she knew exactly what direction to point us in. And, after two orders of dirty rice, mac n' cheese, biscuits with gravy and about 8 cups of coffee between us, Amelia and I felt sated and considerably less irritable. We also could finally start talking again. We had basically sat in silence for the past hour, sipping our coffee and waiting for our order, and once it had come we scarfed food down until nothing but gleaming white china sat in front of us.

"Well, I feel disgustingly full, but pleasantly headache free!" Amelia piped up and broke the silence.

I groaned, "Yes, everything's perfect except for the massive throbbing bump I have at the back of my head."

"Maybe the boys could kind you another percocet, I'll ask when we get back," she shrugged.

"Oh! That reminds me! I had the strangest dream last night! The pain medication really made my mind come up with some trippy imagery."

"Like what?" Amelia asked, her eyebrow arching upward.

"Lavender Elephants and Moroccan guides named Karim. Doors that appear out of nowhere and sets of antlers that turn into large outstretched hands," I rattled off a list of the dream's content while taking another sip of coffee. I left out Mr. Granite Pecks however, I didn't know how I felt about having dreamt about him the first place.

"Who were you asking to hold you tighter then? Karim?" Amelia said out of the blue. My head snapped up from regarding my coffee and I gave her terrified stare.

"What?" I snapped. She didn't have to explain however, I heard it from her mind. "Shit! I was talking in my sleep?"

"You were just asking for someone to hold you tighter. That's all. I thought you needed a hug or something, so I just curled the blankets around you more snuggly. You sounded content, so I didn't worry." Amelia looked worried now though, and she had a reason to I suppose. I had just freaked out over nothing.

Amelia suddenly smiled, "So I take it that Karim wasn't the one holding you in the first place?" I wanted to wipe the smile clean off her face, but instead I buried my head in my hands and explained to the tabletop.

"The guy," I said though my voice sounded muffled. "The tall one from last night. He was the one.... " I looked up through my messy blonde hair to see Amelia grinning from ear to ear with a knowing look.

"I knew it! I just knew it! HA! So, what else happened? Anything good?" She leaned in on the table, closer to me with her hand supporting her neck. I simply rolled my eyes.

"No, there's nothing else," and I was actually really peeved at that fact. "The damn boys upstairs woke me up before things could get interesting."

Amelia was still grinning and I was getting pissed. "What are you all happy about?" I asked.

She cleared her throat, "One of the boys left their jacket at the bar last night. We're going back." As she spoke her smile got infinitely more wide.

_We have a plan little lady. Don't you fret. _

My stomach suddenly felt uneasy again.

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A/N:

Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. I promise Eric is coming back soon. Within the next two chapters. Oh and in case you haven't guessed, Mr. Granite Peck is our very own Mr. Northman. :-)


	4. Chapter 4: Embarrassment and Intrigue

I stared daggers at the little glowing red hand telling me to stay put on the opposite side of the street, from its lofty perch on the pole light across the way. I hated that damn little thing. In Louisiana you didn't have to worry about little red hands or tiny little people telling you when to walk or not. All you had to do was look both ways and assess for your own damn self if it was safe or not to walk. New Yorkers were certainly lazy.

At the same time I was plotting the demise of the tiny little red hand preventing me from running all the way home, I had to try and not look directly into Amelia's eyes or my embarrassment would reach critical mass. At which point, I would almost certainly do something desperate and violent to her small frame.

And hour before my mood had considerably darkened, Amelia was pulling and prodding at my hair, sticking it into place in the most unnatural way. The result being a decidedly 'natural' look of soft flowing waves, each one strategically placed for maximum effect of the I-Just-Rolled-Out-Of-Bed-And-Looked-This-Good style.

The reason for this torture was to impress Mr. Granite Pecks. Amelia was positively certain that he'd be at the bar again when we went to pick up the Bass Player's jacket. "He acted like he owned the place Sookie! He probably does!" Was the argument she used to convince me. Maybe I had been slightly more hungover than usual cause I caved rather easily.

Needless to say that when we got to the bar, Mr. Granite Pecks was nowhere to be found. The Bass Player's jacket however, was in the back office. The woman who actually owned the place, Pam went and retrieved it for us.

"As much as I enjoy seeing the look of relief on your sad face, I don't run a 'Lost n Found'; don't forget your shit in my bar again. Thank you." She deadpanned while handing off the jacket to the bass player. Amelia snickered. This caught the owner's attention and she added, "If you think I'm funny now, you should see me giving directions to the bridge and tunnel crowd on Sunday nights. Hilarious." Despite the obvious humor she was mentioning, her voice stayed monotone and flat. She was starting to really intimidate me, however Amelia was loving it and decided to be bold and ask her about Mr. Granite Pecks, himself.

"Oh you mean Eric? Bastard owes me a barback. He's my business partner, he co-owns the place but rarely comes in. Last night was treat," she rolled her eyes.

"Yes it was," Amelia waggled her eyebrows, "do you know if he'll be coming back anytime soon?"

"No," was all the answer she gave. Dammit. She was clearly done being chatty.

So, after giving our thanks one more time and a curt nod from Pam we had left the bar feeling a mixture of defeat and relief. The Bass Player was happy to have his jacket back, especially since it was getting so cold, but I had to repress the urge to smack Amelia upside the head.

It was while I was focusing all my anger at the blinking red hand that I heard clicking heels coming up behind.

"Ehem," Pam cleared her throat, "Southern Belle?"

I turned round, rather confused, "Sookie, actually."

"Whatever. Listen, Eric owns a bar not far from here off of Rivington St."

"The place at the end of the alley off of Rivington?" I asked. Pam looked back at me with an expression of complete shock, which for her was an eyebrow raise. I heard the band and Amelia behind me thinking, '_how the hell did she know about that?' _in unison.

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A/N:

Another short chapter... don't fret, the next will become a bit more lengthly, lots of descriptions are needed. Please excuse if there are a few typos here and there, this story is not Beta'd.

Eric comes back next chapter.... PROMISE!

So what do y'all think?

All Human.... still intrigued? :-)


	5. Chapter 5: A Wonderland Plan

"You're more enterprising than I thought, how did you know that? No one knows about that place." Pam said and the question hung in the air between us. I had just started to notice a slight accent to her voice. English? I shook my head to clear it. I was obviously stalling. How do I actually answer that? _Oh simple, I just dreamed about it last night, right before your business partner held me in his arms and stroked my hair. It was truly lovely, and he has Fabulous pecks. _Yeah, I totally couldn't say that.

"I think we walked past it the other night, and I looked down to see where all the people were coming from." It was a weak answer, and Pam totally didn't buy it. I heard her thoughts, '_Bull Shit_,' but despite her lack of trust in me, she simply smiled.

She kept that same creepy smile on her face as she gave us directions to the elusive and exclusive bar, we then left saying thank you one last time. Tray, Amelia and the Bass Player were excited. _Ooo a new bar to bring my buds to! _I heard the Bass Player think. _Goodie! A hidden away joint, reminds me of New Orleans_... Amelia thought. _I... need... a... drink. Now! _, was all that was coming from Tray. He was still a bit too hung over for his own good. I had to be a little happy about that. He after all, did wake me from my dream. _Revenge is sweet_, I thought.

My smugness died in my throat the second we hit Rivington street. It was as if my Gran had come down from Heaven and smacked me upside the head. My stomach started doing little jumps and the second order of dirty rice I had eaten that morning suddenly didn't seem so great a decision. _Snap out of it Sookie! Its just a man! _I scolded myself. Really, this was getting out of hand. I hadn't even talked to the guy and he was effecting me like this? Unhealthy with a capital U.

When we came to the alley there was nothing marking it, no sign or arrow, nothing to even hint at the fact that there was an establishment down the way. It was however, and thankfully, well lit. So, on we ventured.

Strange characters were trickling back out of the alley as we walked in. Two men in stunningly colored African robes walked past us with gleaming smiles; they tipped their heads by way of greeting. A girl dressed entirely in a spandex unitard literally did a series of jetés along the way as she passed us. Where the hell were we headed? Down the rabbit hole?

Before I could ask anymore silent questions a striped tunic caught my eye. It was off white and slate gray; the pattern was instantly familiar. I let my eyes travel up the garment to find Karim's smiling face at the top. I gasped. He noticed; so did my companions. The next thing that happened could only be described as utterly bizarre, and from my standpoint happened in slow motion. He walked over bowing kindly to each of us before stepping up to me and taking my hand in his. He bent down to kiss it, and as he straightened, brought up a small golden bottle of rose water that he used to sprinkle over my head.

I closed my eyes, letting the soft fragrant liquid hit my scalp before opening them once again to see my Moroccan usher's vibrant smile. He kissed my hand once more and moved on with an utter look of contentment playing at his lips. For the second time that day, the three stooges surrounding me had the same exact thought at the same exact time: _What the hell? _

_------------------------_

"That was her dream!" Amelia suddenly said, looking back flabbergasted at Karim's retreating form.

"Whu?" Tray and the Bass Player said together.

"Sookie, that was your dream right? He was in it? So was this alley! Oh this is such a good omen!" The boys continued to look stumped, as if identical question marks were looming above their heads. Amelia on the other hand was practically skipping, she grabbed my hand and dragged me forward.

"If it were humid as the seventh layer of hell out, this could totally be New Orleans! I'm lovin this!" She continued to spout excited comments as we continued down the way. I kept my head bowed. It was swimming with _what if's _and _how the's_ and images of Voodoo priestesses working over a little miniature of my body. Ugh.

My pensive and intrigued mood was momentarily interrupted by the hostess of the establishment, which we now found out was a Wine Bar, specializing in vintage Reds. _How appropriate for a mystery man,_ Amelia thought at me. The wait for a table of four was going to be "about an hour and a half" according to the hostess, which in restaurant time meant two hours, maybe more. The place was packed from our view at the front, and outside, more interesting characters were milling about waiting for their tables, smoking everything from pipes, cigars and cigarettes to an actual Huka in one corner. It was a veritable wonderland made up of color and light. A perfect atmosphere for a wine bar; the air itself was intoxicating.

The mahogany door was as it looked in my dream, though less christmas lights festooned it. I stepped back to take it all in. It was a beautiful little spot, and was unmarked. No sign hung above the door or the bay window next to it. Just the lights that gave the dark end of the alley a dim golden glow as they reflected off the warm tones of the wood. Amelia was right, this didn't feel like New York at all.

We were about a half an hour into our wait time when I heard it. His internal voice. I knew it by the language he was speaking, I couldn't understand a word of its flowing cadence, but his tone was pitch perfect. That had to be him. I stood up, as if being dragged forward by it. My companions were once again confused, I didn't give a heel. I cautiously walked up to the hostess asking if I could please use the little girls room. She grimaced, but let me in surprisingly; pointing me in the right direction. My insides did a little happy dance: _we're in! _they chanted.

I walked to where I was told the bathroom would be in a back hallway off the main floor of the bar. The atmosphere inside was just as intriguing, with mounted Stag busts, along with other game and stuffed birds covering every wall. Just like my dream. The colors of the place were dark reds and burgundies, matching the warm tones of the mahogany wood of the bar and floors. The only spark of light came from small candles on the white table clothes dotted throughout the dinning area. It was a contradiction of a place. Rustic yet chic, with a European feel that was surprisingly not too pretentious. I smiled to myself; I liked it. It suited him.

He was just behind a door to my left I found out as I stood waiting for the girls bathroom to empty; planning my next move. I heard him thinking, and then his muffled voice behind the wall. _He must be on the phone I thought. _Since no one else was responding to him.

I didn't get to ponder much else because the girls bathroom door practically exploded in front of me as it was kicked open. A girl, burst out of it crying and flopped onto the floor in front of me. I instantly bent down to tend to her, my Southern manners mixed in with my service experience kicking into full swing.

"Sweetie, shhhh, what's wrong? Shhh..." I rubbed her back as she started rocking on the floor.

"My.... boy... boyfriend," she stammered with distaste, " ughhh!" She then went into another fit and I had to double my soothing efforts.

"That's okay girl, let it out... what happened with your boyfriend?" As if I already didn't know. The bastard had cheated on her. She was just on the phone in the bathroom ringing him up, at her place - where he was currently freeloading - and the person who picked up was not Hank (his name) but Melissa, her best friend. They were in the bed - she could tell by the sound of the sheets - and she had heard over the phone Hank saying "hang up and get back to blowing me." _What an utter douche bag, _I thought.

It turns out that Bathroom Girl's name was Ry and that she was one of the bartenders on duty. That gave me an idea.

"Sweetie, do you have a place to stay tonight before you kick his sorry ass out on the street tomorrow?" I asked as I continued to rub her back.

She sniffed, "Ya, my friend Rob has an extra bedroom I could crash in," she finished speaking with one last sniffle.

"Alright hun, well you call him up and see if you can go on over now. I'll take over your shift, I was just talking with Eric about extra bartender he needed." I was pulling so much of this out my ass I was wondering if the shit was showing on my face. Apparently it wasn't cause she was buying it.

"Really? He filled that position already?"

"Yup! I'm it. Now you just wash your pretty little face and call your friend. I've got your back at the bar. Don't worry."

Ry would have given me her first born at that moment she loved me so much. Her face beamed, and she told me over and over how grateful she was that I had been there for her. I smiled for all about two minutes, before the bathroom door closed again and my nerves caught up with my idiotic brain. _Bartend in a New York bar! Are you nuts!_ The rational part of my brain was real pissed. Frankly, I couldn't blame it; but I was stuck now. So, I just fixed my hair in the hallway mirror, put on a 100 watt smile and walked right behind the bar, out front. I introduced myself to Eddie (the other bartender) as the "new gal Sookie" and shook his hand. He liked blondes so that was a bit of luck, and I was gonna need ever scrap I could get. I took a deep breathe as I took my first costumer's order; "Two Jack n' Cokes." _What the hell did I just get myself into?_ I thought, as I pulled down the bottle of Jack Daniels behind me, unscrewing the cap.

_----------------------- _

A/N: I know I keep on promising Eric but I'm letting this organically come to me, so that makes things rather unpredictable. He was technically in this chapter, if you count his voice from behind a wall.

I'm writing the next chapter as you're reading this, and Eric's in it. I won't promise, cause we all know how that goes, I'll just say it plan and simple:

Eric comes back TOTALLY, next chapter.


	6. Chapter 6: Contradictions and Jackalopes

"You sound Southern," Eddie the bartender said over my shoulder. I simply nodded while searching a series of Spanish red wines off to the left of the bar. Eddie was a chatty sort of fella, and while that would make me happier than a pig in a mud slide on most days to have a chatty coworker to help pass the time; right now it wasn't helping. I couldn't afford to slip up.

About an hour later, Amelia came poking around looking for me and almost blew my cover. Her thoughts weren't so much as worried, as excited. She thought I was off in a back room somewhere getting screwed senseless by Mr. Granite Pecks, and while as much as I'd like that image to actually happen, her coming up to the bar and saying, "Sookie! What are you doing back there?" Wasn't going to help at all.

I gave her leveling look that said, _shut up now_, and she did. So instead of asking more questions that would make Eddie even more suspicious of me she simply thought at me,_ 'what's going on?' _

I had to think fast and told Ed I need a quick break to go to the bathroom. At that point he was nursing a major crush on me and half a stiffy, so a little bat of the eyelashes had him goo in my hands. I ran to the bak hallway once again dragging Amelia with me.

"I have no idea what I'm doing!" I yelled at her in a strangled whisper. I wasn't so much explaining as I was letting off steam, I really had gotten myself into a pickle.

"You seemed to be handling yourself fine, Sookie you tend bar all the time at home."

"I know! I know what I'm doing behind the bar, I don't know what I'm doing there in the first place!" I held my heart that was now pounding. I quickly told her the story of the other bartender and her bastard of a boyfriend.

Amelia smiled, "well, I say if you wanted him to notice you there's no better way than to falsely start working in his bar. He'll certainly notice an employee he never hired."

I didn't have an answer to that, only a sharp nod as if to say, _yes I know, now tell me something that will make me feel better. _Amelia however had nothing to offer. As a result my nerves doubled and I could literally taste the adrenaline at the back of my throat. We just stood there staring at each other. She was smiling at me like an idiot, and I was panting like a dying dog on a hot day.

Neither of us were prepared for what happened next. Mr. Granite Pecks himself stepped out of the back room into the dark hallway. Amelia snapped her head in his direction and before I could blink she had taken cover behind the bathroom door. I heard her giggling behind it along with an '_oh shit_' coming from her head. I however had no door to escape into as he locked eyes with me and didn't let go.

Between the adrenaline coursing its way through my veins, his startling appearance in the hall before me and the intense hold he had on me, I found that my traitor of a body couldn't take it anymore and I literally fainted.

When I finally came to, about 5 minutes later I was curled up on someone's lap and sitting on an expansive leather couch, that looked like it belonged in the study of Lewis Carrol, as apposed to a small office. The rest of the room held a large bookshelf, a sturdy wooden desk, piles of cardboard boxes and two floor lamps with dark shades. The bookshelf took up an entire wall, filled with everything from books to organizational drawers, piles of folders and extra liquor bottles. I smiled at the Jackalope on the desk. That had to be a joke of some kind.

"So, she wakes," I heard above me as Mr. Granite Pecks swept a stray hair from my forehead. _Holy shit! I was on His lap! _I shot off His lap as fast as possible and across the room before loosing my footing and falling once more, almost taking out the jackalope on my way down. He caught me again, and said, "Ha, you're constantly falling down in my presence." I gave him a hard look, I wasn't laughing.

"Don't look at me like that, I find it endearing." There was an edge of sarcasm to his voice, along with an accent. It was a strange one, he spoke as if his words were a bouncing rubber ball skipping across a road.

"Where are you from?" I asked, seemingly out of nowhere. My Gran rolled in her grave at my lack of manners.

He didn't seem to mind though, he looked down at me - still in his arms - and said, "Sverige." He added, "Sweden," when he saw the questioning look on my face.

_Ahh, _that explained the accent's bouncing cadence_. _He didn't say anything else, and continued to hold me close to his warm body. I smelt the sent of clove and smoke about him again, along with cedar that must have been coming from the woodwork in the room. He, like his bar was also a contradiction. He had the hard pale look of a winter-hardy Northern European, complete with blond hair and ice blue eyes and yet everything about his manner, smell and even his office said: warm and intoxicating. He was proving to be the most interesting person I had ever met, and I hadn't even introduced myself to him yet.

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A/N: Ahhh he finally shows up again. That took longer than expected. He was also supposed to catch her working the behind the bar, not in the back hallway but, it just worked out better that way.


	7. Chapter 7: Unexpected

A/N: Warning: massive amounts of Eric in this chapter.

Reason? It's written from his POV. I'm just all over that lately.

Enjoy!

------------------------------

ERIC

I sat at my desk, pissed. My current second bartender was breaking up with her apparent "fuck face" of a boyfriend on the phone in the bathroom, and it was only 8PM. The night crowd hadn't even started to role in yet, and my second bartender was going to bail for personal reasons. _Fuuuucck._ How did I know this? Heat vent. It flowed right into the ladies bathroom on the other side of the wall to my office, and despite my soundproofing the room, noise still got through. Normal sounds like the water running, or someone pissing, I couldn't hear, but something like the shrill sound of an upitty spoiled brat who's boyfriend had just cheated on her, would definitely penetrate my walls. _Note to self: Move your office_. "Ugh," I said running my hands through my long hair, and then scratching the back of my neck. _Never hire an NYU student ever again. _They're all druggies, trust fund babies, or idiots with free loading boyfriends who bail on friday nights. I can't handle another bail out on a friday night.

Its not that I didn't feel for the poor girl, I just... didn't want to have to worry about anything else at the moment. My partner and fellow bar owner was having trouble at her establishment that I held a heavy investment in. The place was going under, and even though I still had my baby; my wine bar, I didn't want hers to fold. Pam worked her ass off, and for some reason the douches she hired always managed to mess something up. That's cause Pam hired for looks, not for character. Then again, I'm the one with the drama queen (literally; acting major) in my bathroom crying her eyes out. Still, Clara was a good worker, she just got too emotional sometimes. It was not _her_ fault her boyfriend was a royal ass.

The idiotic barback who was swinging a keg around in the middle of a crowd last night like it was the fucking American flag; that was totally fault worthy. Not to mention violation worthy, law-suit worthy and just down right dangerous. Sure enough, the idiot hit a girl in the back of the head and she went flying. I mean, really, she just flew across the room. Thank god I had been standing in her path, I caught her and hopefully kept her from pressing charges. Needless to say, I fired the bastard. Pam seemed to have nothing but walking liabilities in her joint.

About a half an hour later or more, while I still had my head in my hands, enjoying the blissful silence since Clara had left; the phone rang. It was Pam. She needed my barback for the evening, stating I owed her for firing hers last night. At the start of the evening I was already short with only two bartenders for a friday. Now I was down to one, and she wanted my barback? _Shit._ _This is just a bad night in the making. _

So there I was, wallowing in self pity - because apparently I'm self obsessed in Pam's eyes - when a new voice perked up in my ears. I again cursed the damn sound proofing men I had paid a good few grand for, but didn't stop listening. I knew that voice. I had just heard it the other night. At least I think I knew it. _Maybe I'm dreaming again?_ I asked myself.

Last night I had had the most acid-trip like dream ever, and it involved the girl who I thought was out in my back hallway. The dream was so weird, I mean, I know I have an overdeveloped sense of self (Pam called it "narcissism") but in this dream I was a Stag for Christ sake. A big ass 14 pointer, stag! It was pretty kick ass. So, while I was embracing my Nordic soul, enjoying the new found freedom of having four legs instead of two and a rather fabulous set of antlers I saw her. _Her_, the girl who had gotten hit in the head. _God, did she smell good! _And look good, and feel good in my arms; I hadn't wanted to let her go earlier in the evening. And there she was, floating towards me! It was surreal.

The dream didn't last nearly long enough. I barely got to hold her in my arms. (They had grown out of my antlers. Talk about out-of-body experience.) She somehow dissolved away when she looked up at me. I thought of it as a bad omen, but that voice out in the hall? I mean, I had only heard her for a few seconds, _but could it be? _

Before I knew what I was doing I was getting up from my desk, walking across my office in one long stride and opening the door to the back hallway. _Holy shit!_ I thought. It was her. There, in my back hallway. Her friend that she had been yelling at it seemed, ran into the bathroom faster than I could blink, but there she was staring at me. She looked stunned, and stunning. She had blonde hair the fell in light waves around her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes were blue, matched perfectly with a simple cotton, deep-blue dress. I had to hold back the animal in me and keep the gentlemen fully in control. She looked down right edible. But on top of her appearance she was also swaying a bit. It wasn't a good sign, her eyes were sort of glazing over and I reacted instinctually before she even had time to start falling.

She fainted. Right into my arms.

xxxxx

Five minutes later she was still in my arms. It was great, except for the fact that I was starting to really worry about her health. Fainting woman weren't supposed to be passed out this long, were they? I couldn't really answer that question since I had never seen a girl faint before. Never. That kind of surprised me, but there was a first time for everything, I guess.

I didn't exactly mean for her to still be in my arms. I just, just wanted to make sure she was comfortable, and when I scooped her up and brought her into my office, to lay her on the couch, her friend scared the shit out of me by storming in and screaming.

"What the hell did you do!?"

_Was she serious? _"Excuse me, you're in _my_ office, in _my_ bar Miss, don't raise your voice at me."

"Don't take advantage of my friend!" She retorted with a perfect Oh-No-You-Didn't attitude. Her face was flushed and her hands were on her hips. She came up to right beneath my shoulder and her whispy blonde bob was falling in her face. She looked like the kind of woman who'd make a great soccer mom in about ten years. Right now though, there was still some semblance of her sorority days left in her, and she was clearly exhibiting her loyalty to her friend. I threw my head back in laughter, her little furious form was just too hilarious to me. She thought she could take me on! For a second I almost believed she could, she was so determined looking. Almost.

"Now you're laughing? Oh you're a bold one you are!" She wasn't backing down.

I quieted my laughter and said, "Look, Miss...?"

"Amelia," she snapped.

"Amelia. She fainted, I caught her, and was bringing her in here to lay her down on the couch, so she didn't have to wake up in a noisy bar." I paired this little speech with my signature smile that I knew would crack her. It took the wind right out her sails immediately.

"Oh," was all she said, and her mouth was in the shape of a perfectly little round O. She then folded her arms with a "humph." I snorted, this girl was a spit fire. I wondered if her friend, the girl in my arms was just as spunky? I couldn't wait to find out.

As I was looking down at her resting form in my arms, her friend spoke again, "Well?" she said.

"Well, what?" I asked while still observing the girl. There was a slight crease in her brow. I wanted to take my thumb and smooth it out, to make her features peaceful again.

"Are you going to lay her out on the couch or not?"

It brought me back to the present. I gave her a curt nod by way of an answer and moved to lay her down, when again her friend surprised me. She was certainly a take charge kinda gal. She came over, turned me to face her with my back to the couch and then pushed my shoulders down. I couldn't help but smile at what she was doing. As if she could actually force me to do anything. I however, allowed my knees to bend and sat down. Once I did she pointed a finger in my face. I repressed a childish urge to snap it off with my teeth.

"Now, you stay there with her till she wakes. And no funny business! I'll be back." And with that, she was out my door in a whirl of blond hair and kaki slacks. She closed the door on her way out, and with a resounding thud all the noise from the bar was cut off. It was just me, and the girl. I smiled.

Like my dream, this current situation didn't last nearly long enough. She started to stir about two minutes later. I smiled down at her blonde hair, it was almost the same color as mine, and the locks laying on my shoulders blended with hers. It was a sweet image.

"So, she wakes," I said and almost immediately regretted it, as I was barely able to sweep a stray piece of hair from her face. She came to and within two seconds had rocketed herself off of my lap. I was suddenly cold with out the heat from her body and my arms felt empty without her. She still wasn't steady and almost took out my prized Jackalope as she started to fall again. I shot up to catch her, happy to have an excuse to hold her one more time.

"Ha," she was too much, "you're constantly falling down in my presence." Why was I enjoying this so much? Anyone else and I'd be totally pissed, but this girl was completely unexpected in every way. I loved it.

She turned the full force of her eyes at me just then, and I think she was trying to look fierce but just simply looked adorable. I had to hold back another laugh, "Don't look at me like that, I find it endearing."

Then out of nowhere she asked me where I was from. _Unexpected. _I smiled, and told her Sweden, but said it in Swedish at first. She looked confused at the foreign word coming from my mouth, so I repeated myself in English and suddenly, her face lit up with realization. Her eyes brightened and she smiled. _So, god damn cute! _I thought.

I didn't want to let her go, and she didn't move to be let go of. I took that as a hint to just keep on holding her. I loved the warmth coming off of her, she was nervous, real nervous. I knew it was from me and savored how she trembled slightly under my touch. I wanted to make sure she wasn't actually scared of me though, that wouldn't be good for our relationship.

_Relationship? What the hell are you saying!?_

I pushed back what the pragmatic part of my brain was forcing at me and smiled down at her, testing to see if she was actually scared or just intimidated. The blush the crept up her neck and cheeks the next second confirmed it. She liked me holding her. I smiled genuinely then, any stress I felt earlier in the evening had completely left me. Not wanting an awkward silence to develop, even though we seemed to be fine just staring at each other, I decided to speak.

"So," I said, "What brings you to my bar?"

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A/N: *whips sweat off brow* Whew! That was a bitch of a chapter! Dang.

I had so much fun writing Eric in my other story and y'all gave me such good feedback, that I decided to have go at him in this one. Besides, I had promised y'all more Eric and barely gave you three lines from him. Hopefully this makes up for it.

How'd ya like it? Good, bad, meh? Do tell!


	8. Chapter 8: Longing and Laughter

A/N: I went a little crazy in this chapter. It jumps back and forth b/w POV's twice. I don't know if I'm going to keep up with that, I rather prefer it from one POV but sometimes it's nice to know what the other person is thinking. Consider this chapter an exception to the rule. Who am I kidding, this is fan fiction, its ALL an exception to the rule.

The bouncing back and forth also helps with the hopeful humor of this chapter.

It starts out with Sookie, like usual. Hopefully its not a train wreck, Enjoy!

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"So, what brings you to my bar?" He asked with a smile that would have made Mother Teresa herself weak at the knees before him.

_Please, please keep looking at me like that. Wow. _

I kind of got lost in it; the smile, his eyes, his skin, his smell.... all of it. I realized I was ogling him like a school girl with a crush, but for some reason my mouth would not let me speak. I had the answer at the tip of my tongue, _Well Sir, I came here to see you because you're just so hot that even my subconscious brain can't stop thinking about you. I then ended up sending your bartender home under the false guise that I was taking over her shift because, guess what? I'm working for you now. Surprise!_

It was all right there, at the front of my brain, ready to burst out of my mouth the second my traitorous lips decided they wanted to move, but alas they didn't have to. Amelia came bursting in the next second. The loud noise of the door slamming against the wall shocked me and I immediately tightened my hold around his waist, while he likewise held me closer turning me away from the noise, as he shot a deadly look over his shoulder back towards the door. His gaze stopped Amelia dead in her tracks for all of a second before she put her hands on her hips, arched her eyebrow and gave him an expected look, like a mother who just caught her kid's hand in the cookie jar.

"I said no funny business," she spoke clearly and slowing, her voice in a slightly lower register than normal. That was her fierce voice, though the irony of her saying it to this 6 foot-and-then-some man, who could clearly level us both with a look was just comical. The lampshades were still wiggling around on top of their perches on the light bulbs from the vibrations the door caused. It was like a scene from a bad noir film.

I think I must have been a little out of it from fainting cause I couldn't control a giggle that escaped my mouth. Mr. Granite Pecks looked down at me then, his eyes bright with amusement, and just sort of swayed me from side to side, obviously enjoying the humor of the situation as well. I smiled back at him, I couldn't help it.

_Oops, there I go. Getting lost in his eyes again..._ I thought, as my brain started to play Britney Spears songs.

My insides were doing a little dance to the music: _he's still holding us, he's still holding us! And he's smiling! Woohoo! _

Amelia again ruined the moment. I heard her go "Ehem" from where she was standing by the door and then asked, "What's with the PDA? I left you two alone for two minutes and you're suddenly..." She didn't finish her sentence instead she just held both her hands out in front of her gesturing to our entangled bodies. I flushed then, realizing the strangeness of the situation, instantly becoming embarrassed and withdrew myself from his grasp. His arms stayed out for a few extra seconds, as if he didn't want to let me go. It shocked me. Did he really like holding me like that? Was his smile real, or was he just being cocky? I didn't help that every thought in his head was in Swedish. _Dammit_.

xxxxxxxxx

**Eric **

_No, no, no... Where are you going?_ I thought.

What was she doing?

I hadn't really been paying attention to what Amelia was saying at the door, I was too busy smiling down at the girl in my arms, but something Amelia said made my girl step away from me. Her face blushed and she suddenly looked embarrassed and ashamed. She pushed away so fast I didn't even comprehend it at first. My arms stayed out in front of me, waiting for their occupant to be replaced. After a few seconds I knew that that was foolish and dropped them, my hands immediately balling into fists. Amelia was really starting to get on my nerves. How dare she make my girl...

_My girl? Why was I calling her mine? _ What was this a Motown song? _Get it together Eric! _

...How dare she make the lovely, endearing and completely unexpected girl in front of me feel bad about something. I was fully enjoying the feeling of her in my arms, I didn't mind that she was there. I wanted her to stay there, dammit.

"You really need to learn to knock," I told her. Hoping that the low bass of my voice would make a dent in her bitchy attitude.

"You really need to learn to keep your hands to yourself Mister!" She shot right back. Now it was my turn to put on the Oh-No-She-Didn't face.

I barely had a chance to arch an eyebrow at Amelia before the girl next to me spoke, "Amelia that's really rude," was all she said and her hands were now on her hips. The two girls stood there, matched stance for stance, having a fight to the death staring contest. It seemed as if they were almost having a silent conversation.

xxxxxxxxxx

**Sookie**

_Oh, no she didn't!_

I was really having a nice moment there. A really, really nice moment, and Amelia had to burst in, ruin it, and then yell at Mr. G.P. as if he was trying to take advantage of me or something!? Was she serious?

After I regained my composure and fought the urge to not step back into Mr. G.P's arms, _Really Sookie, get a hold of yourself, _I gave Amelia the stare down of a lifetime. The look read: _Explain, now! _

She did.

_Oh!_

"You were going to lay me down on the couch so I wouldn't have to wake up in the noisy bar? That's so nice." I looked back at him like a girl who had just gotten a puppy for Valentine's Day. He was a total mess of contradictions. Hot and cold, sweet and sour, strong yet gentle. I had to hold back an urge to jump on him right then and there.

His face however, was looking confused, "How did... ?"

Amelia supplied the answer and I wanted to slap her right in the mouth for it. "Sookie can read minds," she said swiping the air with her hand, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for me to be able to read minds.

Why, oh why did she have to tell him that? Everyone back home thought I was totally crazy from my erratic behavior that my mind reading ability made me have. _Thanks Amelia, you're just a doll n' a half! _

The next minute was a tense one. For me at least. I stared at Amelia, trying very hard to hold back the urge to drop kick her; Gran would not approve. I didn't even bother looking over at Mr. G.P. Whatever nice little thing we had going was probably done and finished now. No doubt, he thought I was crazy, or just plain delusional.

When Amelia's eyes flickered over to him a few seconds later, I then gave myself permission to look into his probably underwhelmed face. What I saw however, when I actually looked over was a small smirk at the corner of his mouth. He was looking down at me, his eyes still bright with amusement and he whispered, almost to himself the word, "Unexpected" under his breath.

While I was contemplating the exact context ''unexpected'' was meant to be taken in, his eyes turned from amused to devious. Suddenly his brain was open to me, and his thoughts were in English. He said one thing:

_Come to me._

I balked for about a millisecond before realizing he was testing me. Seeing if I could actually hear what he was thinking. Then the test became a game. Did I go and embrace him again? Or, did I hold steady and let him squirm? Wondering if he heard it or not? My body had obviously not caught up with the realization my brain had had though, because it took a step forward towards him before I could stop it in its tracks. Literally.

_Shit! Stupid feet! _

It was too late. A wicked smile lit up his face with the taste of victory while heat shot right up through my torso from the sight of it. _Lordy! _

Despite my body's reaction, I wasn't going to make this_ that _easy for him. He should have to work a little bit. He didn't really even know my name. I'm not the kind of gal who goes running into the arms of a mystery man on a whim...

I just fall into them instead, in this case.

I folded my arms and stood firm with my resolution. He arched an eyebrow at me, the smile never leaving his face. It didn't make things any easier. I probably looked like a stubborn child, but I didn't care. No one told me what to do. He didn't seem swayed however, out of the two of us, he was throughly enjoying himself.

The tension in the room must have been rising because Amelia thought it apt at that second to interrupt our little mental sparing match.

"You two done eye fucking each other yet?"

My eyes clenched shut the second she said it. _Biiiiitch_.

Sometimes, Amelia really didn't even try and pretend to have a filter.

Roaring laughter filled the room then. My eyes shot open to see Mr. G.P. bent over in fits of hysterical laughter. I didn't understand it but anger flared up in me. Was he laughing at me? _Oh right, like what you were just doing Mister, WASN'T being suggestive at all. _I laughed back at him, hard and cold. All feeling gone between us. With the spell broken, I rounded my shoulders and walked straight towards the door of his office and was just about step aside Amelia and back out into the hallway when Eddie came jogging up to us, his hair a dirty blond mess of tangles and his face flushed.

"Woo," he said catching his breath when he stopped in front of me, "Sooks, you gotta get back out there. I'm dying." It was funny, I had just noticed then, that he too was southern. His voice had the slightest elegant twang to it. I smiled back at him.

"Sorry Ed, problems with the boss," I said while gesturing to Mr. G.P. in the background who was no longer laughing or even amused, but utterly mystified.

_Ha! Take that! _I thought looking back at him, being extremely satisfied with his bemused expression.

"Sookie...?" he said it as if he wasn't sure of his pronunciation, but continued, "is working behind the bar here?" He asked Ed, who returned his question with an equally bewildered stare as if to say, '_Ya, you didn't know?'_

Now it was my turn to laugh, and I mean, Laugh. I just lost it. Amelia had to come over and lead me to the couch I was so hysterical. I looked up through my now messy blonde hair, tears from the laughter stinging my eyes to gauge my new boss's expression. What I saw surprised me. I giggled to myself again, of course I was surprised. He was always a contradiction.

He was smiling again. Not a devious smile, but a satisfied smile, as if he liked the utterly bizarre turn of events that had taken over his bar. I was kind of punch drunk from it. This man's mood changed more often than Hugh Heffner's posse of buxom blondes. God, it was infuriating almost. I couldn't read his thoughts, and whenever he looked at me, a surge of heat spasmed through me, rendering me incapable of coherent thought. This was so not good.

So, there we were. All four of us. Mr. G.P. leaning against his desk, looking fabulous. Amelia, to the left of the door, her eyes jumping back and forth between us, as if she were watching some silent tennis match. Me on the couch, utterly transfixed on a pair of blue eyes I really didn't want to look away from, and Ed, in the doorframe, completely lost.

This time it wasn't Amelia who had to interject. Eddie cleared his throat.

--------------

A/N: Alright, how'd that go? I think it worked well. I couldn't just have y'all thinking that Eric was a devious fiend who took advantage of damsels who fell into his arms constantly. We had to get his reaction on some things.

For those of you who snickered at the 'my girl' mention, ya, that was intentional. I didn't let it last though. That would be traitorous. ;-)


	9. Chapter 9: Introductions and a Kiss

A/N: Warning, this chapter contains a severe amount of fluff. I almost hate myself for it.

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"Uh.. guys?"

Eddie was looking back and forth between me and "our boss" with a quizzical expression. From his head I was hearing his thought process as he tried to figure out what had been going on before he walked in._ 'What's up with these two? Their body language is confusing me, they seem like they know each other more than they should, yet she just started working tonight. She's pissed and he's amused... Why? Who's this other chick? God, the bar is packed, the waitresses are gonna kill me.... we gotta get back out there...' _ He had so many thoughts jumping around up there I was even getting jumbled up by them. He was right though, the bar probably was packed, and he needed my help.

"I'm coming Ed." I said with a smile, "Lets go," and with that I turned on my heel, put my arm round his waist and led him back out towards the bar, leaving Mr. G.P. to fiend for himself, alone in his office. Amelia followed us out, closing the door behind her. I was secretly thanking Eddie for getting me out of a really awkward yet, inevitable conversation. If I dived into my "job", I'd have time to think it through. At least, that's what I hoped. There was no precedent for this situation in my life. Then again, I wasn't normally this insane; men never had this effect on me.

Two hours later, no sign of Eric; The-mystery-man-formerly-known-as-Mr. Granite-Pecks. I had been aware of his real name since Pam mentioned it, I just had developed a habit of referring to him as Mr. G.P. I let that slip in front of Eddie once and he cracked up for practically an hour. I however turned the color of a cherry tomato and from there on out, forced myself to call him Eric. I also prayed that Eddie wouldn't tell Eric my nickname for him. _Oh please dear Lord, no_.

Eddie proved to be a great coworker. He was laid back and efficient. The ladies loved his slight southern draw and lazy smile, and he likewise could charm anyone into waiting a few extra minutes while we worked on filling all the back orders for drinks from the tables out front. Amelia couldn't get enough of him, and insisted at sitting at the bar, telling Tray she was just watching over me. I gave her a pointed look, while Tray went off to call the band and tell them directions to the new place we all were chilling at that evening. He of course knew that Amelia was flirting, I heard it from his head. He also knew that with two of his signature moves later back the hotel, Amelia would be goo in his hands. Needless to say, he wasn't worried. I however, swore off ever listening to his thoughts ever again. _Hello,T.M.I. overload!_

Everything seemed oddly normal. I loved working behind the bar in such a funky and new atmosphere, the only problem was; it was all under false pretenses. Eric hadn't come out from the back office in two hours to kick me out of his establishment, nor had the police shown up to drag me to jail. I had no idea what he was thinking since it was all in Swedish and I was starting to wonder if he remembered that he actually didn't hire me. This was too confusing. What was he doing?

15 minutes later we hit a lull and I asked Eddie if I could once again be excused to powder my nose. He just smiled down at me and said sure. He knew I was going back to Eric's office. I just rolled my eyes at him, and slipped away from behind the bar.

When I got to back to Eric's office door, I didn't know what to do. Do I just walk in? Do I knock? Should I just leave and tell Eddie thanks but I'm actually an impostor to this whole situation, sorry? Plus, one of the waitresses eyed me standing in front of Eric's door and I really didn't like the look she gave. It read; _back off bitch_. I didn't even need to read her thoughts to get that one.

During this strange exchange the door opened. There was Mr. Granite.. I mean Eric, filling the entire door frame in all his glory. He looked from me to the waitress and calmly said, "Anya, are you on your break?"

"No," she said while lowering her head slightly. She looked like a kid who just got caught stealing an extra lollipop from the doctor's office.

"Then what are you doing back here?" He said with a slight smile, that held no warmth at all. It was a rhetorical question, she nodded and scooted away before he could saying anything else.

And before I could even say anything either, he looked down at me and asked the same question with a knowing smirk. "Are you on your break?"

_Oh hell no! _

I pushed back on his chest, forcing him back into the the room. Once inside I slammed the door shut behind me and turned round to look back up at his face, my hands on my hips, ready for a showdown. He was smiling like an idiot._ Dammit, why was he so attractive?_

"No," I answered with sarcasm, "I'm not on my break. Eric, I don't even work here!"

"I know that."

"Then why the hell have I been busting my ass out there for the past two hours?"

"Eddie needed help, and my other bartender went home."

"I know that!"

"Yes, well that's why you're out there busting your ass. You wanted an answer."

I opened my mouth to argue, but there didn't seem to be anything to argue back with. He had a point. But, why wasn't he angry that I was here in the first place? Why the hell didn't he care that I just showed up out of the blue and started pulling pints? Was that how everyone got their jobs here? Also, why were we still standing so close to each other? I could feel the heat coming off his chest, and it was distracting me.

"You're..." I started but didn't know what to say, "You're... confusing."

"What's confusing about me," he said with another mischievous smile.

"Everything! You're a mess of contradictions! Why the hell don't you care that I'm working out there under false pretenses, and probably exposing you to a horde of law suit violations?"

"Because," was all he said. Despite it being a vague answer, he made it sound as it if was the most finite thing anyone would say.

"Because why!?" At that, I realized then how loud my voice had gotten and toned it down, "why?" I repeated more softly.

"You're unexpected." Again, short and brief and infuriatingly vague.

I was going to ask him what that meant when he suddenly wrapped his arms around me. Pulling my waist close to him and looking down at me with an expecting expression. It changed my train of thought.

"We can't have an argument like this," I said, referring to our entwined bodies; even though my arms betrayed me and hugged him back, resting right above the line of his jeans. I had to hold back an urge to accidently let one of my arms fall so I could cop a feel of one probably really fabulous ass.

He didn't respond to my previous statement so I said it again, "we can't argue like this." I stepped closer.

"We're not arguing."

"Yes we are."

"Do you hear yelling?"

He had a point, "no" I said.

"See. I believe what we are doing, is holding each other," and he looked really pleased at that fact.

"Yes, why are we doing that?"

"Because I like holding you." Boy, was this guy blunt.

"This whole situation doesn't seem strange to you? Not any of it?"

"No, it seems unexpected." With that, his smile got wider, and he held me a little tighter. I almost moaned it felt so good to be that close to him. "You have no idea how refreshing this entire situation actually is to me."

"I'm glad to hear that..."

He cut me off, "I'm glad you're glad."

"Let me finish," I said. "I'm glad to hear that, but I just can't... you know I'm not from here, right? I just can't start working here. I'm leaving in two days. I don't even know your full name!"

"Eric Northman," he stated. He made the name sound almost regal with the way he spoke. "Its nice to meet you Miss Sookie...?"

"Stackhouse."

"Sookie Stackhouse," he said it as if he were committing it to memory. He then took one of my hands from behind his back and brought it up his lips to gently kiss it. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

I'm not gonna lie, I kind of melted a little when he did that. I think my eyelids may have even half closed, and I was almost certain my jaw fell open a little bit. He saw all this of course and was extremely proud of his handy work. I regrouped quickly before I started to do something really embarrassing like, drool in front of him.

"It's nice to meet you too Eric Northman." I don't know why I did what I did next, but I was sure glad I did it. I stood up on my tip toes to give him a peck on the check by way of greeting. I was the mind reader, but he was the one who anticipated my movement. He turned into my lips and captured them with his own.

Then I actually did melt, and moaned, all at once. Thank god he was holding on to me so tight because I lost all feeling in my legs after about three seconds. My body took over after about seven seconds, and my arms moved up his back and into his long shaggy hair. Which by the way, was amazing to feel laced between my fingers. He moved with me fluidly, holding my lower back with one large hand and keeping my head firmly attached to his with the other. Not that he needed to, I wasn't going to stop him.

That was the problem. Neither of us wanted to stop, and after about two minutes into the best kiss of my entire life, it looked like neither of us were going to.

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A/N: I warned you that it was flufftastic. *giggles and runs away*


	10. Chapter 10: Interruption

A/N: So ya, this chapter literally came out of nowhere. A vague outline of how this story is going to progress is forming in my mind. I think I like it.... but I'm not sure. That's what happens when you let the shit come to you organically. *shakes head*

Anyway.

Without further ado...

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The problem with being oblivious to what's going on around you while your in the heat of the moment is, you won't even notice when someone walks in on you, sits down and starts watching like she's catching the new movie at the local theater.

And... that's exactly what happened.

While Eric and I were getting hot and heavy on each other, and boy were we. I could certainly feel how much he was enjoying our little make out session, and the little tingly feeling that was building up in my lower abdomen spoke volumes as to how much I was enjoying it. However, during our "moment" I do remember hearing the door open. I just assumed it was Amelia. She made a habit of bursting in at the absolutely wrong time. I wasn't going to let her ruin this. I was just going to enjoy it.

I think Eric might have heard the door as well, he momentarily shifted his head towards the noise, but I doubt he actually gave it much thought considering the next second he moved his hand down to my ass and rocked me into his hips, obviously wanting the feel of the friction. That elicited a moan from me that was very un-lady like. Now, I know that I was raised a proper southern gal, and that this kind of behavior with a complete stranger just wasn't done, but really, I couldn't help myself. _Who cares really?_

The person who walked in did, apparently.

"Ehem," she cleared her throat from her perch on the couch. We didn't stop kissing.

"Ehem!" She cleared her throat again with a bit more force, and we finally jerked back into reality. We pulled away from each other about a fraction of any inch. Just enough to look into each other's eyes. I was holding his face in my hands and he looked at me with a ferocity that was actually intimidating. The woman behind us cleared her throat one more time, coupled with, "oh come on now," and I quickly ducked my head into Eric's shoulder. Turning my burning red face away from the noise. He cupped the back of my head gently, holding me to him, while greeting the woman.

"Pam," he said. His voice was slightly strained, but mostly calm.

_What!? Pam! Pam's here!?_

I stifled a little shriek against Eric's shoulder, while internally I was cursing. _Oh, shiiiiit._

"I see you've been having a considerably better evening than I Eric," Pam said from across the room. Eric held me tighter. I then realized he was probably doing so in order to have time to calm down. I could almost feel him forcing himself to get it together, and to get Eric Jr. to stop saluting. I then had to stifle a giggle; my shaking movement against him didn't help his situation and I heard him hiss slightly. I stopped moving immediately. But seriously, this whole thing was just a little bit funny. I shouldn't have been kissing him in the first place, and then his business partner walks in? Were we on candid camera?

Eric didn't bother to address Pam's statement, instead he said, "People seem to be making a habit of doing whatever they want in my bar lately. Including walking into my office without knocking. Tell me, is there a sign outside that says 'Come on in'?"

"I don't have time for this Eric, listen. The bar on Avenue B is on fire."

_What!? _I turned my head around then, shocked. Pam merely looked at me from the couch and smirked.

"I knew that was you," she said. I have no idea how she was so calm? Maybe she was just happy to have this distraction to get her mind off things? I didn't feel like mentally intruding, so I just asked.

"Are you serious!?" I was flabbergasted.

"Yes, I'm serious. I knew that was you. I knew Eric would like you the second I saw you." _Huh? Really? _I then shook my head. _Not important at the moment Sookie_, I told myself.

"No, the fire," I corrected her.

She ignored that. Instead of answering, she turned her attention to Eric who had just spoken up. "When did the fire start?" He asked. "How bad is it?"

"Well, I wouldn't be here bothering you if everything was fine, now would I?"

Eric Jr. had ceased saluting at that point and Eric Sr. was no longer in the mood for being civil. He stepped out of our embrace, though he kept one arm around my waist, and I could have sworn I heard a growl issuing from his chest.

"Pam, enough with the snark. What do we do?"

She sighed, uncrossed her legs and stood up, "We go and watch the place burn Eric. There is nothing to be done. Everyone was evacuated. Only a few members of the kitchen staff had burns. Nothing serious. I just wanted to inform you." At this she really did look apologetic. Her expression was resigned and the normal dose of sarcasm that had been present in her voice up until now, was gone.

"There is always something to be done Pam, come." And with that, he started to make his way towards the door. He was still gripping onto my waist and wasn't letting it go. _I guess I'm coming along for the ride? _

I had to jog to keep up with the long strides of Eric's legs. He walked out to the bar and called Eddie over. Eddie, not being a fool, eyed Eric's hold on my waist. He then gave me a wink. I couldn't help but smile back, despite the severity of the news I had just heard still fresh in my mind.

"There's a situation I need to attend to at the other bar. Is it too busy out here on your own?"

Eddie said he was fine since the dinner rush had come and gone. Eric nodded and off we went, back through the kitchens. He slammed open the back door and practically flew out into an apposing alley on the other side of the bar. _Damn, that was kinda hot,_ I thought and then once again shook my head. I was just a mess of inappropriate thoughts. Pam was by our side immediately and her car, a red corvette, was idling at the curb.

I expected her to get into the driver's seat, but was slightly shocked when Eric quickly folded his long body in behind the wheel. He gestured for me to take the passenger's seat next to him, and Pam without even hesitating reclined in the back. Her arms spreading out along the white leather, ready for a ride. I still had no idea why I was suddenly in the middle of this whole thing, and I didn't really have time to think about it. Eric threw the car into gear and steered out into the night.

Within minutes I heard the sirens and smelled the smoke. This was no small fire we were dealing with. I then started to wonder how firefighters up here in New York handled having all the buildings piled on top of each other like they were? That made me think of all the people who could possibly be injured or killed from one simple fire. Which lead to other negative thoughts. By the time Eric parked the car (illegally along side another one) on the street over from the bar, my head was swarming with horrid images and scenarios.

Eric seemed like he was on auto pilot. He hadn't spoken since we left the bar, he jumped out of the car, came round my side and grabbed my hand before I could barely get out. We ran to the next street over, which was now blocked off by police cars and barricades. Pam held up her lease at the fat policemen guarding the entrance to the street and we strode past him without a word. I gave him a slight smile, as a thank you.

My mind was bombarded. Screams and cries both mental and physical were cascading into my head. All from fear and shock, thankfully none from physical pain. I was almost blinded by it. I didn't know what to make of it, or where they were coming from. I immediately started counting heads, taking inventory. Matching up mind to person.

_11 people over there... 8.. 9... 11 different brain waves... 4 firefighters by the truck... four technical thought processes to go along with them. _

The fire in front of us was certainly overwhelming but not devastating. It seemed to be contained on the two first floors of the tenement building the bar was located in. Judging by the thoughts of the fireman, it was focused in the back of the building. It had started in the kitchens and spread upward from there. The result being that the flames were only licking along the frames of the windows on the first floor. The second floor was where the majority of the flames were, though they seemed to be dwindling. That of course didn't mean the two floors above the fire weren't susceptible to collapse, and I prayed that the structure wouldn't implode from the weakening of its foundations. _Surely everyone's out? _

I closed my eyes and did a mental scan of the building, not trusting all the fear I could taste in the air around me. Eric was still holding my hand. I really don't know why he liked holding me so much, but I wasn't complaining. He was keeping me calm. He soon noticed that my eyes were closed. He leaned over and whispered in my ear. His breath was hot, and it sent shivers through me.

"What do you hear?" He asked and I knew he wasn't talking about the sounds on the street.

I didn't bother holding back, since he already knew my secret and certainly wasn't put off by it. "There's an old woman on the third floor. She's passed out, probably from the smoke. No one seems to have noticed her." I spoke softly so only he could hear, my eyes still closed.

"Anyone else?"

"No."

"See, there is always something to be done." He looked down at me with pride. His eyes reflected the fire in front of us and I looked back into them, oddly at ease, and for the first time, happy my 'disability' as I called it, could help in some way.

Eric wasted no time. "Sir!" His voice boomed over my head. A firefighter looked over, he was annoyed but didn't shrug off Eric's demanding presence at the scene.

"You supposed to be here?" the firefighter asked, after he jogged over.

"I'm co-owner of the bar," Eric stated firmly and the firefighter nodded. "That's not the point. The point is there is an old woman on the third floor, no one has gotten her out yet."

"You serious?" This man wasn't playing any games. He was working off of 4 hours sleep in the past two days and really didn't want to deal with a prank, a jerk looking for attention, or just some plain delusional idiot not knowing what he was talking about. He also didn't want to risk any casualties. His mind was a mess of indecision. He sighed loudly and scratched his head, looking up at the building and back to us.

Eric stood firm next to me, his curt nod saying all he needed to say. The man stared down at me, his face sullen and tired. He saw the fear in my eyes and decided then that Eric wasn't lying. He turned, heading back over to his men, ordering for two guys to sweep the third floor again.

"The backyard facing apartment!" I yelled, and the man looked back at me with widened eyes. He didn't ask any questions however, he just kept on giving orders.

They had to break into the building next door, climb up to the roof, jump over to the adjoining roof and get down into the third floor via the fire escape. He also ordered the man on the rig to start cranking it up towards the third story window for, if and when, the men found the woman. The whole thing happened so fast I was barely able to process it, along with all the other "voices" I was keeping track of.

The amount of mental energy I was absorbing was actually draining me of all of my own. I slumped against Eric's side and he immediately supported me around the waist. "Lean your head on my shoulder," he said and I didn't even think twice about it, I just did what he told me. Eric was basically a stranger to me, and yet the amount of comfort I felt when I was around him boggled me. I decided there was not point in thinking too much into it. Eric certainly didn't, he just accepted our strange sudden connection. Putting my faith in the unknown might not be such a bad thing.

The firefighters did find the woman on the third floor, and got her out safely, though I'm sure she was going to suffer from some major smoke inhalation. Eric moved me over to the opposite side of the street, away from the firefighter's roaming eyes. They were looking for us. They wanted to know how we knew the woman was there, but Eric didn't feel like answering questions. I thanked him quietly as he sat me on the trunk of a car, and stood in between my legs. His hands gently holding my hips.

Body contact with this guy was like catnip apparently.

I saw Pam a few yards off. She was filing a report with a policeman. "Eric, you should really go and see if Pam needs help, and I should leave. There's no point in me being here."

"You saved a woman's life Sookie, there certainly was a point for you being here." He said, holding my head in his hands and staring into my eyes.

"Is that why you brought me?" I asked, suddenly taken aback.

"No, I brought you because I just didn't want to let you go." I searched his eyes, looking for the lie, but he was being truthful. His face was serious.

"You're very indulgent aren't you?"

"When it comes to you? Yes."

"Do you say that to all the girls you catch from fainting?" I was trying to lighten the mood. I was too mentally drained for a serious conversation.

"Eric doesn't indulge in anything anymore. Especially women, he's too caught up in himself." Pam apparently had returned from filing the report. I hadn't noticed her until she spoke up.

"I just prefer to keep to myself, thank you very much Pam." He glared at her from over his shoulder, she glared back before completely changing her train of thought.

"I'm sorry Eric." she said, and it shocked me to hear someone as feisty as Pam apologize. "I didn't know this would happen." She was referring to the fire.

"Of course you didn't!" His voice was strained. "Don't apologize Pam, I know this isn't your fault. I'm just glad no one was badly hurt."

I didn't mean to listen in on Pam's thoughts but they were being projected loud and clear. She was trying very hard to hold back from saying something out loud, knowing that Eric would become angry if she was careless enough to let something slip. That of course only made me more curious. Her thoughts centered around another woman. Someone Eric cared about a great deal. I gasped when I "heard" it, and Eric looked down at me, confused. I put my hand over my mouth and stared back at him, transfixed once again on his eyes.

Four years ago there had been another fire in which the woman Eric loved, perished. Eric had been devastated and closed off ever since, focusing more on his work than relationships or a social life. No doubt this fire was bringing back memories, maybe even flashbacks. I dropped my hand and instinctively hugged him closer.

Eric tilted his head down to kiss the top of my head. It was such a sweet and unexpected gesture, yet it felt utterly natural coming from him. I almost got teary eyed. "You smell like smoke," he said.

"So do you, but I like it."

I could feel him smiling into my hair, "I never said I didn't like it."

We stayed like that for hours it seemed. Me on the car, Eric between my legs, holding me. Pam came and went. Talking to police, talking to firefighters, talking, talking, talking... The poor thing wanted to spit. I didn't blame her. I had become so tired from "listening" to everyone and absorbing all of the emotions around me, I could barely keep my eyes open. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep on the soft black cotton of Eric's shirt.

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A/N: Well, that was a little bit different. How'd ya like it?

Ya, I'm a little shocked myself. This chapter did not really follow my plan for the story. *shrugs* Oh well, I'm just gonna roll with it.

I think you're getting an Eric POV next. Dream on that kiddies. :-)


	11. Chapter 11: Sunrise and Coffee

A/N: Just in case you're wondering, Eric lives in Fort Greene, Brooklyn. And no, that's not where I live... you stalkers! *shakes head*

It's a good neighborhood though. It's where Walt Whitman lived, and where 'Leaves of Grass' was first printed. The Walt Whitman Residences aka projects, now stand where the print shop was on Myrtle Ave... lol. Biggie Smalls was from the neighborhood right next door. Good stuff. *starts singing* "No, no, Notorious... "

Plus, it has a nice eclectic feel. It's not too expensive (then again, this is NY, not too expensive for us, is a raped-outta-the-ass for any sane person), and not too gentrified. It's got a lot of spice and flavor to it, but not too much bite. It's also blissfully free of hipsters for the most part.

I think Eric would approve. Speaking of Eric....

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**Eric**

I slumped in my chair sleepily, watching the sun rise up above the many gridded blocks of brownstones and row houses; turning their sienna brick tones into brilliant oranges and pinks. The sun casted a yellow haze over the morning smog of the borough, making its once dull gray, beautiful and golden. I had come up to the roof only about ten minutes prior. I did this a lot when I couldn't sleep. I'd wait till I saw the sky lighten outside my windows and either drive down to the water or climb up to my roof to watch it rise, depending on how spent I was. The time right before sunrise was when New York was at its calmest; and as I sat in an old lawn chair someone thoughtfully put up on the roof, watching it rise up over Brooklyn, I couldn't help but feel calmer. At ease. Better.

That was the point of this whole pseudo meditation thing I did. I mean, I didn't get down on all fours and do Downward Facing Dog or anything. I didn't try and stand on one leg and actually attempt a Sun Salutation, I wasn't that Metro. But I did love the serenity it brought me. Being up there on my roof, letting the morning rays wake me up. It helped me regroup and think more clearly. And I had a lot of regrouping to do.

Last night was a breakthrough for me, as Pam had stated in the car ride home. Apparently I had "broken through" my wall. At least, that's what Pam called it. The thick facade I had built up over the years. I silently chided myself for letting her know me so well. Then again, I guess she couldn't help it. She was the only person I let in. The only person I really talked to, or dared to have a drink with on an evening off. The only person I dared to even care about. I had to after all, she was my business partner, and probably my only confidant.

Of course, I wasn't a complete shut in. I did do things around the city. Our chef at the bar catered galas now and again, and I was always present. Making sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to. Watching over them like a hawk.

Plus, the elite of New York did seem to love inviting me to their decadent parties. Though, I saw right through all of the half-assed invitations. The trophy wives of the rich bastards who put up the money for such gatherings were the ones who wanted me there. To drool and ogle, and to slip their numbers and room keys into my back pocket, while coping a feel in the process. It disgusted me. I was a fucking wine bar owner, not a god damned gigolo. Did I look like Patrick Swayze or Richard Gere? I don't fucking think so. No matter, a few smiles and curt apologies about being busy with "the help" kept them off of me. Usually.

Sometimes I did give in. I wasn't a god damned monk after all. I did get lonely, as much as I hate to admit that. But not recently. I had put a stop to that sickening pattern about two years ago. Fucking rich women drenched in Chanel, on their 800 thread count sheets can only sate you up to a point. None of it felt right anyway, and no one replaced what I was looking for, so I just ended it. All of it.

I became a workaholic. Johnnie Walker was my best friend and only indulgence. If I was feeling particularly nostalgic on an off day, Jack Daniels would be my bed mate. That was all.

Until her.

_Shit. _

How can one person be so effected by someone who slams into you out of the blue? Literally. I had been thinking it through. I didn't have _much_ time to think it through, considering this happened only two days ago, but still, it called for some deep ass thought. And I was giving it just that.

I decided what she had, wasn't any of the things that could, and _did_ excite my libido. Her silky hair, her delicate smell that reminded me of fabric softener and coconut, or her soft skin that burned under my touch. Nor her blue eyes, or the fact that our hair was practically the same color. For some reason that did it for me.

None of that. Those things didn't add up to why she was so enticing.

The thing with her was that she _got _me. I could see it. She'd hold my stare and she wouldn't look away. No one else could. No one else did.

Ever.

But she did. And man was it a turn on. In so many ways. She turned me on, surely, but she also woke me back up. I wasn't kidding when I thought that any other girl who had stormed into my life like she had, would merely piss me off to no end. They would. But her? No. She excited me, and I knew it immediately.

I didn't need to have stupid small talk with her over wine, or awkward polite conversations walking to and from a coffee shop, to prove it either. The preliminary stuff would be wasted on us. We were already connected in a deeper way than that.

At least I hoped we were. I certainly was.

At that thought, I was brought back to the present. The sun was now well above the horizon line of the metropolis and I hoped that she wasn't awake yet. I didn't want her to be scared waking up in a strange apartment with no one there. So I climbed back down the fire escape and onto my terrace, that was really a back porch. I just happened to be two stories off the ground. I opened up the sliding glass door and walked into my living room.

I went into the kitchen, and straight towards the coffee maker to pour out two cups of the fresh jo, that had been brewing while I was getting all philosophical on the roof. I carried one with me back to my spare bedroom. I was glad someone finally got to use it. 2 bedrooms, plus an office, and a terrace in Brooklyn with a view of Manhattan is prime real estate. That shit doesn't come cheap.

Sookie had fallen asleep in my arms the previous night. She was sitting up on the trunk of a car, slumped into my chest, I could feel her breathing against me, it was an amazing sensation. Pam and I had opted to stay until the fire had been completely put out. Not that I had anything to do, I just held Sookie against me, watching the firefighters spray gallons of water onto what was once, half of mine.

I was fine where I was though. I never wanted to let Sookie go It seemed, even though that slightly disturbed me, I didn't think too much of it. I just enjoyed her company. Even if she was slightly drooling against my chest. She must have been so spent from doing the voodoo mind reading thing she apparently did. My mystery girl from Louisiana could read minds. Un-fucking-expected indeed.

She had saved a woman's life. A woman who probably had a family, probably had friends, and now those people would not need to worry about the safety of their kin. She had been saved by Sookie. If anything could have put Sookie up higher on my list of things to be amazed with, that would have been it.

I knew that she knew. Her gasp in front of me after Pam almost let slip what had happened four years ago confirmed it. Pam didn't know that Sookie could read other people's thoughts, but I did. She had probably heard the whole story, straight from a first hand viewer of the scene. I wasn't angry though, I wanted her to know on some level. Of course, our relationship - yes I said "our relationship" - was on a fast track, so I didn't have any time to tell her myself, but it was better that she knew now. It would allow her to understand part of my admiration for her. Not only was she unexpected, she was noble.

Girl of my dreams? Check.

When I walked into the spare bedroom I couldn't help but snicker a bit. Sookie was all over the queen sized bed. One arm flung out across two pillows, another curled up above her head. Her left leg dangled off one side of the bed and the other was tangled up in the large down comforter. Her long blonde hair was wild and tangled, laying across the pillows in a wavy mess of frizz and shine. She looked amazing.

Suddenly I froze. I didn't know what to do. There was no particular protocol pamphlet on how to wake up the person you're pretty sure is your soul mate but you only met her two days ago. I couldn't plug that into google and get an answer. Nope. So instead I stood, rooted to my spot, the steaming cup of coffee still in hand, wondering how in god's name was I supposed to proceed.

Serendipity must have bought stock in my love life or something, because the next second my dog's booming bark issued out through the apartment. I jumped slightly and the coffee mug went tumbling out of my hands spilling down my jeans, clanging to the floor, and burning me in the process.

"Shit!" I cursed, and immediately told Johnnie to hush up. Yes, I named my dog after my drink of choice. Alcoholic? No. Bar owner? Hell yes. Is it obvious for a bar owner to have a pet named after liquor? Of course. Do I care? No.

Johnnie came strutting up the hallway, looking up at me with expecting eyes. He was hungry and probably needed to pee. I was pissed and definitely needed to get out of my jeans. I told Johnny "out" and pointed back down the hallway. If that damn dog needed to pee so badly he could do it out on the terrace. I'd clean it up later.

I quickly let the dog out on the terrace and ran back to my bedroom to get out of my jeans, that now had scalding hot coffee seeping into them, and therefore my skin.

As for Sookie? Surely the clang from the coffee mug hitting the floor, the booming bark of my idiotic dog, or my own cursing should have woken her up? I didn't worry about it just then. I was on a one-track-mind thought process at that moment.

Jeans. Off. Now.

As I bounced up and down, trying to get the dampened leg of my jeans free from my scaled skin I heard a gasp behind me. I closed my eyes and cursed internally this time. It was a bad day to forget underwear.

"Wow," was all I heard. I turned my head slightly towards the door. Sookie was blatantly staring at my ass. Her eyes were slightly puffy and my shirt that she was wearing as a nightgown, swam on her. I had to smile. She still looked downright edible, even in her just-woken-up-ogling state.

"Do you mind?" I asked, arching an eyebrow, my smile still on my face.

"Oh! Sorry...." she jumped up and down slightly for a moment, looking from side to side before running back into her room. I heard the bounce of the mattress springs and assumed she jumped right back into bed, probably burying her face under the pillows in the process. I couldn't help it; I laughed.

It's not that I cared that she saw my ass, I'm Scandinavian dammit. We love being naked. It was her reaction that was utterly priceless. She was too cute for words.

_Well,_ I thought, as I threw on a pair of black PJ pants after toweling off, _at least she's awake now_.

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A/N: Eric's dog by the way, is a black n' white Great Dane. I toyed with naming him Alex, so that he could be, "Alexander the Great... Dane" but alas that would be disrespectful, and not a very good pun. So Johnnie Walker it is. :-)

p.s. I tried to make it as clear as possible but I just know I'm gonna get PM's about this... no, Sookie did not sleep with Eric. He was a gentlemen and let her stay in his spare bedroom. He's just chill like that.


	12. Chapter 12: Waking Up

A/N: Wow! I love you all so much! I gobble up every single review y'all throw at me and they all kick ass. I'm totally serious. There's no more food in my apartment. You are all feeding and sustaining me with reviews, and I thank you for it. I'm pretty damn hungry. And I love that almost everyone of you picked up on the Alexander interview line. HA! Hilarious.

We're back to Sookie's POV here... enjoy!

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Like I said, I didn't remember much else after falling asleep against Eric's warm chest. I was just too comfortable, but I hoped to god that I didn't drool. How embarrassing would that be? Kill-me-now embarrassing.

I vaguely remembered being back in the Corvette, and I remembered being carried somewhere that smelled like Eric. Clove and musk and smoke. But everything smelled like smoke. My nose was probably lined with black for all the ash I inhaled. I didn't know what happened after those brief moments of semi-consciousness, only that I was extremely comfortable and warm. I snuggled into it; the warm, and just slept. Wherever I was, I was content and safe.

A series of loud noises were what woke me. First the booming baritone of what sounded like a dog barking. That really messed with my head. The only dog I knew was Dean, my boss's collie. But he was back home in Louisiana, not here in New York. I also heard a clang of some kind, and cursing. Someone was cursing and telling the dog to hush up. _Ugh, why all the noise? _I rolled away from them, and the intruding sun that was forcing its way into my eyes from behind my eyelids. I buried my head into the goose down pillows and snuggled further into the sheets that smelled like cloves and soap.

_Clove? _

_Shit! _

My head shot up so fast it gave me a head rush. I pushed my wild hair out of my eyes and looked at my surroundings.

Large bed with an oak headboard._ Interesting._

High ceilings with floor to ceiling windows. _Pretty, but not familiar._

Beyond the curtains I saw rows of brownstones, and not the large apartment building that I normally saw outside my hotel window. _Am I at Eric's?_ I thought. And then my mind raced. I checked under the covers. I was still wearing underwear. Thank god! I was however not wearing my blue dress, but a large cotton, v-neck black shirt. That was the smell I was smelling. It was Eric... and this was his shirt! _How the...? _

I got up to investigate. That must have been him earlier. _What was that clang though?_ I looked down at the floor by the door; a large coffee mug lay in three pieces at the threshold. Black coffee covered the dark stained mahogany wood floors. _Oh, that was the clang_. I stepped over it, and continued on searching. _What happened?_

The next door down was open so I peeked in. I gasped.

_Sweet Jesus, Shepherd of Judah! Hellllooo! _

The finest ass I had _ever_ seen, was currently bobbing up in down in front of me. Its owner, Eric, was trying to get out of a pair of jeans, that I only vaguely registered as having coffee spilt on them.

"Wow," came out of my mouth before I could even process the thought. I was too groggy to even try and care that I was obviously ogling his ass, and that my mouth was hanging wide open. Really, that early in the morning, no one is functioning on all cylinders. I'm surprised I had the ability to speak at all.

Eric was looking back at me with an amused expression. Again, I barely registered it. Needless to say my attention was engaged elsewhere.

"Do you mind?" I heard him ask and I snapped back into reality. _Oh!_ I jumped up and down for a moment, looking anywhere but Eric's fine buttocks. Man, was it _fine_. I ringed my hands for a millisecond before dashing back into my room, jumped over the spilt coffee, and dove into the bed, head first, underneath the pillows.

_Shit, shit, shit, shitshitshit!_

I heard laughing from the next room and internally rolled my eyes. Of course he'd find this situation funny. I just desperately needed coffee. My brain clearly wasn't operating at full speed yet, and I needed it to. Especially when I was around Eric.

Oh god, I was in Eric's home! I buried my face further into the pillows. He probably didn't know where my hotel was and so he brought me back here. Then again, I'm sure he wasn't too upset about that. I doubt he tried very hard to find out where I was staying. Still, it was sweet. He then obviously gave me one of his T's to sleep in and put me up in an extra bedroom? Clearly we didn't have sex. I would have remembered that. Plus, I caught a peek of Eric Jr. just before and I would have totally_ remembered _that! Wow.

Not only was this man doting and caring yet, fierce and strong simultaneously. Not only did he not pass judgement on mind reading ability, he in fact, embraced it. He a fabulous ass and he was for the most part, a gentlemen. Plus, he liked to hold me, and I quote "just didn't want to let [me] go."

Man of my dreams? Hell yes!

"Sookie?" I heard him tentatively enter the room while knocking lightly on the door jam.

"Mmm?" was all I said in terms of an answer. I didn't bother bringing my head out from under the pillows. I couldn't face him just yet.

"Would you like some coffee?"

Sweeter words were never spoken.

"I mean, you can lap up what's on the floor here, or I could pour you a new cup? I've got a fresh pot in the kitchen."

"Thank you, yes. I would love some," my answer was muffled though, since I was still buried in the pillows.

"I'm dressed now, you can come out of hiding." I heard the amusement in his voice and couldn't help but cringe and giggle at the same time. I then heard the soft padding of his bare feet retreating on the hardwood floors, and assumed he was walking back down the hallway, out towards the kitchen. I rolled over when I knew he was no longer in sight and got up. My feet were cold on the hard floor and I snuck back into Eric's room to see if he had slippers of some kind.

He did. They were shearling lined moccasins and despite the fact that they were about ten sizes too big for my feet, they were darn comfy. I shuffled down the hall in them, taking in all of my surroundings. His apartment - or what I could see of it from this hallway - had Victorian undertones to it; with its plaster casts and crown moldings. The building must have been over 150 years old. Still, it had a modern edge, with the thick wooden floorboards and stainless steel appliences in the kitchen. I laughed at the "Viking" stovetop and oven. Eric must have been making a pretty penny at the wine bar to afford such culinary excellence. _I wonder if he can cook?_ I might die of happiness.

"Wow," I heard him say as he raised his head up from the newspaper he was reading. I froze for a second. Was he "wowing" at me? Or was he "wowing" at the fact that I had the audacity to actually steal his shoes without asking, while at the same time I was wearing his shirt? Dang, my decision making still wasn't on track, I needed coffee.

"What?" I asked, deciding I better just bit the bullet and find out if he was pissed at me.

"You look amazing in my clothes," his mouth turned up into a devilish smirk as he spoke, while his eyes raked over me so suggestively, my knees weakened a bit. _Lordy!_ He certainly knew how to make a woman feel attractive.

He didn't hold his stare for long though, which was good since I was already the color of a cherry tomato. "Oh, I'm sorry. I offered you coffee didn't I?" He was speaking rhetorically again, and mostly chastising himself for not attending to my needs sooner. I almost giggled. This man could flip between gentleman and devil faster than a coin toss. I kind of loved it.

He quickly poured me a cup, and before even asking he added cream and sugar. I stared back at him in awe.

"How did you...?"

He cut me off, "I guessed." He said with a smile and a shrug. He waited for me to take a sip, making sure I liked it. Of course I did. It was fabulous. It was the best cup of coffee I ever had. Dammit, this man was annoyingly appealing.

I eyed him suspiciously as I took a seat at one of the bar stools along his granite counter top. _Of course, Mr. Granite Pecks would have a granite counter top._ I rolled my eyes. He stood across from me, in the middle of the kitchen, while my back was facing the living room, and he was leaning on the counter as apposed to sitting.

I swung my moccasin covered feet on and off the bar stool and sipped my coffee daintily. He glanced up at me every now and again while he was reading his paper, a small smile at the corner of his mouth. I'd blush, he'd laugh lightly and turn the page. In any normal situation this would be called flirting. To me, it was called torture.

The arm he used to hold himself up on he counter was pale and well defined. His hands were huge. His fingers... long. I swallowed a gulp of my coffee too fast and almost choked. The shirt he was wearing was old and worn, the neck having been stretched over the years. It exposed his long neck and shoulder muscles, that flowed down into the elegant line of his collar bones. His long hair was back in a messy ponytail. Pieces of it falling half-hazardly into his eyes and down onto his check bones. He'd helplessly try to push back the stray pieces out of his face every once in a while, but it would stubbornly fall back down along the sides of his face, framing him. His drawstring pants were sitting low on his hips, and the one hip that wasn't supporting his weight, but was cocked to the side showed a sliver of pale skin, and a hint of that infamous 'V' cut that us ladies loved so much on a man. I almost snorted into my coffee, before looking up at the ceiling, desperately trying to hold myself together.

"Oh!" I said finally realizing that we never cleaned up the spilt coffee, happy to have something to cut the silence with. Not that it was awkward, I was very comfortable, too comfortable, and I kept on thinking of the ways I could become even _more_ comfortable. I had to cut that out, fast.

"We never cleaned up the spilt coffee. I'll go do that now." I jumped down from the stool too fast and tripped over my own feet in Eric's shoes. If I could have rolled my eyes at myself as I was falling, I would have. Seriously, how many times did this make? Four? Ugh, I was pathetic.

Sure enough, Eric, my ever ready savior had me in his arms before I could even fall a foot forward. I covered my eyes with my hand, totally disappointed with myself, and groaned.

"I swear I don't fall this much normally. I never trip actually. I'm real good at not tripping..."

"Except when you're around me."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement, but I answered it anyway. "Yes, I don't know why that is."

"Please believe me when I say that I don't mind in the slightest." And with that he stood me back up. "I'll go clean up the coffee. You're a guest in my home, you don't have to anything but enjoy yourself." He was halfway down the hallway with cleaning supplies in hand before I could even protest.

Scratching at the glass door behind me caught my attention. The biggest dog I had ever seen was scratching at the door with one long elegant leg. His head (which was twice the size of mine) was dipped slightly and his eyes were sad. This was clearly puppy dog language for 'please let me in and give me a treat.' I balked for a second. Contemplating what to do. That thing could knock me over with one blow if he wanted.

"He's harmless," Eric said behind me. I jumped. He slipped his arms around my waist and buried his head into my hair with an "hmmm." My eyes half closed and I made sure to keep my mouth closed. Coffee plus morning breath does not a kissable mouth make. He lifted his head after indulging himself in my hair and put it on my shoulder. "Wanna meet him?" He asked, tilting his head so his check was resting on my shoulder. I looked over at him with trepidation but nodded.

"Good." He strode over to the glass doors that lead out onto a back porch of some kind and let the massive dog in. It was really a horse if you asked me. In bounded in with wobbly legs and a wagging tail. Jumping up onto Eric's shoulders. The dog rose up to his full height and was almost the same size as Eric. I was astounded.

Eric pushed him back down onto all fours and kneeled next to him, holding him steady before saying, "Sookie, this is Johnnie Walker, my dog."

I smiled. The sight before me was too cute for words. Eric matched his dog perfectly. Large and strong yet elegant and posed. Eric's blond hair coupled with his black pants and cotton shirt perfectly complemented his dog's black and white fur. Dogs really did reflect their owners it seemed. I tentatively held out the back of my hand to Johnnie, allowing him to sniff my scent, before he gave me a sloppy kiss.

I then moved to pet his head. He leaned into my hand, letting me scratch behind his ears as he closed his big brown eyes. He stepped closer, his head still bowed. He seemed to know that I was nervous around him, but boy was he a cute dog. A massive dog to be sure, but adorable none the less. It only made me admire Eric more. I looked at him, giving him an approving smile of having a kick ass dog, and his expression was that of a proud papa.

"Oh, he likes you," he said as his smile got wider.

"I like him," I responded as I continued to scratch Johnnie's left ear, but not moving my eyes way from Eric's.

"I couldn't be more happy about that."

"Me too."

Johnnie took the liberty of slobbering all over my face the next second. I mean, I was happy he wasn't as intimidating as he looked, but I didn't need all the extra doggy saliva on me.

"Oh Johnnie, come on now," Eric said as he pulled Johnnie off me. "I'm sorry about that, he gets over enthusiastic every once in a while. Here, I'll get you a wet towel," as he lead me over to the sink. I just laughed.

"Is Johnnie always that affectionate?" I asked as Eric turned on the tap and damped a cloth with the water. I closed my eyes and allowed him to wipe my face clean as he held it steady with a hand under my chin.

"Ha, yeah. I guess he's just excited to meet you." He wiped my face gently with the towel, making sure not the drag it too roughly over my skin. When he was done I slowly opened my eyes to find him staring at me with a very readable expression: _want_.

The hand that was placed under my chin cautiously ran down my neck to the base of my collar bone, his fingers lightly brushing over them before he dragged his hand back up to cup my cheek. I leaned into it, encouraging him. _Please don't stop_, I thought.

His other hand came up and pushed my hair out of my face, it was still slightly damp from the wet towel and I felt the cold on my forehead before he moved his hand to the back of my head, and pulled me towards him.

He barely touched my lips with his. Instead, he rubbed his nose against mine, nuzzling me, as he rested his forehead on mine. He was breathing heavily and I didn't know what had gotten him so worked up, but I noticed too that I was straining to keep breathing through my nose. I was still conscious of my morning breath, but like hell I was going to stop him from touching me.

I pulled my own arms up and wrapped them around his neck as we stood in the kitchen, swaying slightly from side to side, breathing each other in. Trying to calm each other down while simultaneously getting worked up.

"Why?" I asked in the smallest voice possible, barely opening my lips.

"I don't know," he said.

"I'm leaving..."

"I know."

"It's not fair," I felt the sting of tears welling up in my eyes and was surprised at my reaction. My emotions always seemed to be on overdrive around Eric.

"No, it's not." His voice was husky and he was straining to hold back.

"We still have today."

Eric didn't respond, he just nodded forcefully against my forehead.

"Lets go back to bed," I said looking him in the eye.

"You mean..."

"No... let's just..." I struggled to find the words, "hold me Eric. Be with me."

I'll admit it, the sexual tension between us at that point was enough to make any hormonal teenager self combust ten times over, but I didn't know what to think of this whole relationship yet and jumping in the sack with him was a bad idea. So, we snuggled in the sack instead. Probably not the best idea either, but I didn't have a relationship guide to work off of here.

Eric lead me back to his room and leaned down on the bed before holding his arms out to me. I curled up into his chest, using his shoulder as a pillow as he wrapped the blankets around us. We held each other tightly, not wanting to let the other go. Eric pushed me to him so closely I thought surely my ribs would bruise. But I didn't care, I moved into him that much more, wanting the closeness. I was happy to have found a connection with someone like this, and we certainly did have a connection. For however short it would last, I wanted it.

Five minutes later I felt the bed indent and knew that Johnnie had joined us. I smiled into Eric's chest and fell asleep in his arms happily - If not a little sexually frustrated.

-------------------

A/N: Okay, uhhh.... I swear I originally planned to write a love scene there. *scratches head* I don't know what happen. I got all angsty on you.

I know you want to kill me now. I know. But I think this might be better. Their relationship is too new, sex would just complicate that.

Don't worry, I didn't rate this 'M' for my "cussing". Just, let them emotionally develop first. (It won't take that long, believe me.)


	13. Chapter 13: Today

A/N: I love you all, you know that right?

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The serenity of sleeping in Eric's arms did not last nearly long enough. We probably had a good hour and half of sleep before his phone started ringing off the hook. I was amazed as I looked over on the bedside table. Eric actually had a phone, a _real_ phone. With a jack and a curly cue cable attached to it! I thought the noise was just one of those retro mobile phone rings, made to sound like an old fashioned phone. But no, Eric had an _actual_ old fashioned phone. Why was that so intriguing to me?

I marveled at it, smiling for a second before hearing the shrill of the ring once more and cringing back into Eric's protective arms. Eric apparently could sleep through such disturbances. I guess years of falling asleep in a place that never actually went to bed dulled his senses to background noise? I looked up into his peaceful face and pushed his hair back off of his forehead. I gently placed a kiss on both of his eyelids, willing him to wake and make the insipid noise cease.

It worked, his eye fluttered open the second my lips left them, and he looked at me with an awed expression. We laid there for a few moments, taking in the alien yet exhilarating feeling of waking up in someone's arms. The shrill of the phone came again though, and Eric turned away to pick it up.

"Yes," he said horsely, as he spoke into the receiver. My Gran would have loved this man. He had a real phone! She would have gotten such a kick out of that.

I heard the seductive alto of a female voice on the other line and knew that it was Pam. Eric listened for a few moments before bringing his other arm up - the one lying beneath my neck and shoulders - and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He was clearly agitated. I buried my head in his neck, nuzzling him. He dropped his hand from his eyes and played with my now even frizzier bed-head hair absentmindedly, while he listened to the rest of what Pam had to say on the phone.

"You can't stop her?" he asked, and I knew it was Amelia he was talking about. I almost giggled into his neck.

"Give me some time first. Send them out to breakfast somewhere... Send them to Jerry's, put it on my tab."

Pam spoke again, it was short and her tone was deep.

"Yes, I'm serious. We'll meet you there." His voice was husky with sleep, but his tone was firm. Dude meant business.

This time I actually heard her say "fine."

"Vi ses snart," he mumbled into the phone before hanging up.

"What did you say?"

"'See you soon' in Swedish," he said smiling down at me. "I didn't want to be rushed however, so I told Pam to send Amelia and her entourage off to breakfast. Would you like a shower?"

_Oh glorious be, with you? Yes! _

_No, Sookie, that's not very lady like. _

_He's waiting for your answer idiot.... answer!_

"Oh, sure." I looked at him awkwardly though. Did he mean he was joining me? I mean, sure, that'd be fabulous, but at the same time, I didn't think it would be that smart of an idea. I'd never want to leave.

He surprised me by chuckling softly at my expression, "Don't worry Sookie, I meant only to offer _you_ a shower. Nothing else." He finished by kissing the top of my forehead.

"Am I that obvious?" _Damn._

"Only a little." _Double damn. _

I gave him a pointed look. He just laughed again. I couldn't be angry at him though, he was right. He also had just kissed my forehead. It was so sweet, and yet so simple. I internally sighed.

"Okay, well, I guess we better get up?" I offered but, really I would have laid there with him till dusk if he allowed me to.

He looked down at me slightly crestfallen, "Only if you want to..."

My insides did a little leap of joy. _Yay, he wants to snuggle more! _

I barely had time to smile at him, the phone rang again. I cursed, "shit!" It was meant to be internal, but it slipped out. Eric roared with laughter.

"I couldn't agree more," he said looking down at me before he picked up the phone once again. This time, the tone on the other end was not the deep alto of Pam's honeyed voice, it was an uppity trill of edge and frustration. I sighed. In other words, it was Amelia.

I held out my hand for the phone before he could barely register who was yelling at him. He handed over the receiver like a hot potato, happy to be rid of it.

"Amelia...." She immediately went into a tirade of not knowing where I was, and yadda, yadda, yadda, "Yes, I know..." More prattle, "I'm fine...."

"You sound like you're lying down," Amelia accused. _How the...? _Who the hell has the ability to tell that?

"No, I'm not." I responded.

"Yes, you are..." she paused then, regrouping, and when she spoke again all of her motherly concern was gone from her voice. Amelia, my best friend and roommate was suddenly back. "Ohhhhh! Did you? Oh you saucy minx!"

I had to nip that in the bud, "No! Amelia, stop talking. No, don't even think what you're thinking, and stop asking questions. I'm fine. I'm going to meet you for breakfast later. Please stop pestering both Pam and Eric. They've been put out enough as it is.... See you soon." And with that I handed the phone back to Eric and he gladly hung it back on its little hooks.

After the two disturbances, the urge to cuddle had kind of passed. We both felt it too and Eric looked down at me with saddened eyes. "I guess we really should get up."

"The world does seem to be against us," I said.

"Yes, and Johnnie needs breakfast."

"Oh!" I looked down at the massive Great Dane on the end of the bed, currently sleeping on my feet and said in that silly voice every person adopts when talking to something cute, "Did we make you wait for breakfast. I'm so sorry puppy." Johnnie lifted up his large elegant head and looked at me with sad puppy dog eyes. Yup, I felt guilty as anything. That dog was real good at working the don't-you-feel-sorry-for-me-please-give-me-food angle.

"I love that you refer to my dog as a puppy, considering he is actually bigger than you." Eric was looking at me like a proud papa again, and I had to smile.

Before the scene of the three of us on the bed, talking about breakfast and puppies could get any more wholesome, I sat up and shifted to get off. Eric grabbed my wrist and threw me back down on the bed, my head bouncing on the mattress as my hair flew in all directions. He leaned over me, his hair falling over one shoulder and tickling my neck, and with a seductive smirk he said, "Where you do you think you're going?"

His voice was still husky from sleep, and his tone was deep to boot. I instantly turned to goo beneath him. It really wasn't good that he had this effect on me. I tried to regain the ability to speak and said, "uhh... I'm taking a shower?"

He arched an eyebrow and responded, "Oh yes. Right. Well, you'll be needing a towel then." He got up then, and walked out of the bedroom, off to find towels I supposed. I however, laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling, dumbfounded. _Lordy._ This man was going to be the death of me.

Johnnie crawled over and licked my ear. It woke me from my trance and I shot up off the bed and turned round to pat him on the head. He was adorable, but I really didn't need to be slobbered twice in one morning. As I walked out, he jumped off and followed me. Staying close to my hip as I made my way down to the bathroom.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Eric **

Sookie woke me up by kissing my eyelids. I don't know why that was such a profound thing for me, but the sensation of her lips on my skin was incredible. Just those two simple kisses alerted me to consciousness. At that moment, I would have gladly given up anything to have Sookie wake me like that for every day of the rest of my life.

No one had ever slept with me in this bed. It was new. The old one had burned. I never thought I would want _anyone_ to sleep in my bed again, but when we were standing in the kitchen, the tension between us at an excruciating high, she wanted me to hold her, and be with her. And that's exactly what I wanted to do. Falling asleep with Sookie in my arms was the most right feeling I'd experienced in years.

After the phone had rang twice, both times bringing us back to reality more and more, I realized that we had to get up. We couldn't stay in this suspended state for long. But when she moved to leave I couldn't let her go yet, and I cracked a bit. I just had to play. It was wrong of me, I know, but her reactions were too priceless not to.

When I got up to go get towels for her shower, I looked back and saw her dumbfounded face. I had to hold back a laugh. _Too cute_, I thought. _Too fucking cute_.

Johnnie had certainly taken a liking to her. He even tried to follow her into the bathroom when she went to shower. I of course, nipped that shit in the bud. If I wasn't allowed to be in there while she showered, my dog sure as hell wasn't. Damn dog had no civility. He even slobbered all over her face. I had an urge to lick all over her face like animal too, but held myself back. I in fact, wanted to lick _all_ _over_ her body, again and again, but I held that shit back. _Dammit._

I looked down at my pants, Eric Jr. was clearly not happy about being on the outside of the bathroom door. I agreed whole heartedly with him.

I closed my eyes in frustration_. Get it together Eric, _and then refocused my attentions.

"Come on you boy slut," I said as I brought Johnnie into the kitchen for breakfast.

The entire time I heard the water of the shower pumping through the pipes, my mind focused on Sookie. What she would look like under the spray, her long blonde hair dampened from the water. Her soft skin moistened and covered in soap. The suds clinging to her ever curve....

I dropped my head in my hands and rubbed my face furiously, and practically growled as I shoved myself off the counter the next second. I had to get myself the fuck away from temptation.

"Johnnie, come on." I grabbed his leash off the hook by the door and stormed out of the apartment as fast as I could. Some cool fresh air was what I needed.

Fresh air.

The air in the apartment was filled with her, mixed with the heat from the steam and the smell of the warmed soap.

I didn't even bother putting the leash on Johnnie, he knew fully well not to run into the street and was so tame with the neighborhoods kids, I swear the parents would hire him as a babysitter if only he had opposable thumbs.

I smoked a cigarette as I sat on my stoop, watching Johnnie defecate all over a tree down the block. I was trying to quit smoking, but hell if I didn't need the cool burn of the nicotine in my veins today.

_Today._

I sighed heavily. "_We still have today_" she said to me before we cuddled on the bed. But I didn't want just today. I wanted everyday. I had experienced enough of this damn life to realize a good thing when I found one. Sookie was the best thing that had walked into my life in the past four years, and like hell I was going to let her go so easily.

But how to make her stay? And more importantly, would she want to?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Sookie**

I sort of went numb in the shower. The water pressure was amazing, no doubt. But the second I stepped in, and let the hot water sooth my muscles and calm my nerves I zoned out. I saw his soaps in the shower rack at the back wall of the shower and stared. They were neat and masculine, like him. I opened up his shampoo bottle and breathed in. It smelled like him, like his hair. I was bowled over by it.

There I was in _his_ shower, using _his_ shampoo and he wasn't with me. I was taken aback by my brazen attitude but after thinking it over, I agreed with myself. I really did want him with me. Not only in the shower, surely that'd be incredible, but also in general.

I lathered up my skin with the bar of soap in the holder and thought about how little time we had left. I didn't want to leave. Not yet. I had just met him, I had barely spoken to him.

_We still have today_, I repeated to myself.

The only problem was... Today wasn't enough.

-------------------------------

A/N: ah blah! Sorry, I got corny on you. But, they're in love, and they kinda know it. Corn comes with the territory.

Don't worry, Eric cleaned up Johnnie's poo. That's a hefty fine in NYC if you leave that shit lying around. Woo. Not good.

I'd like to thank Lauryn Hill of the Fugees for the word "defecate" being used today in this chapter. I was just gonna go with "shit" as per usual, but "Ready or Not" was playing on my itunes and this lyric popped up: "...So why you imitatin' Al Capone... I be Nina Simone, and _defecating_ on your microphone.."

HA! hilarious.


	14. Chapter 14: Dolce and Eric Jr

A/N: Yay! We're back up! Oh its so nice to be back. *sigh*

Here we are again, Sookie is still in the shower (she's getting mad clean yo), and we're in her POV. It's a short chapter, I know, but its cute. More to come soon.

Enjoy!

------------------------------

**Sookie**

Eric's shower was _ohmyfuckinggod_ over-the-top-amazing. There were two heads, and even body sprays that kicked in after about five minutes. They scared the crap out of me at first, but after about a millisecond I was totally enjoying it. It felt like my body was being massaged from every angle three times over. He also had a red light fixture up on the ceiling, which I thought was just kinky at first, but after inspecting the switch for it, I realized it was a heater! To warm up the bathroom in the morning so that it wouldn't be freezing after he stepped out of the shower. There was also a cedar wooden door that let off behind the shower. I opened it and peeked in. Eric had a Sauna in his bathroom! I thought his kitchen was the most impressive part of his apartment, but after spending about ten minutes in his bathroom, I never wanted to leave.

However, after a half an hour in there I realized I better save some hot water for the rest of Brooklyn, and sadly turned off all six sprays. I blew them all a kiss goodbye saying how much I'd miss each one of them, and stepped out onto the warmed tiled floor. Which was surprisingly squeaky clean, and there wasn't a stray dog hair in sight. I don't know how he did it. I guess a bachelor in New York would keep his apartment impeccable, in case lady friends stopped by. But Pam had said the previous night how he never indulged in anything except working his ass off anymore. If anyone would know about his habits it'd be her I figured. I shook my head of my ponderings and went to dry myself off.

Eric's towels were huge! Like him. I smiled at that. I wrapped myself up in one and was completely dwarfed by it. On Eric, it probably just looked normal. _Ooo I wonder what Eric looks like after getting out of the shower? _I thought to myself._ Snap out of it!_ I shook my head again. I stared at my neatly folded up clothes, set to one side of the large skin.

"Hmmm..." I mused as I tapped my bare foot on the tile, regarding them.

Crap, I had a dilemma. I didn't really want to walk up to Amelia and Co. in the previous night's dress. Sookie Stackhouse does not do the walk of shame. Even when there was no shame to be had. Sadly... dammit.

When I came out of the bathroom I saw that both Eric and Johnnie had left the building. I assumed Eric had just taken him for a walk. If Johnnie had had his breakfast, then he most certainly needed a walk to do his morning duty.

"Good" I said outloud as I tip-toed into Eric's bedroom, looking for the closet. My Gran was probably scolding me from her grave. I had invaded Eric's personal space and made myself at home, for the second time that morning. But for some reason, I just knew he wouldn't mind. Or at least, I hoped he wouldn't.

When I opened the closet door, my mouth fell open. _Whoa_. Eric owned Armani and Dolce & Gabbana suits! Five of them! He must look fabulous in a tux. Oh wow. I almost got lost in daydreaming again at that pretty picture before hearing the front door open. They were back. _Shit!_ I had to hurry. I grabbed a blue Dolce dress shirt that would swim on me. "Perfect," I said as I held it up, assessing. I then tip-toed out of his room and into mine next door, snatching a belt that hung on his bedroom door as I went. It had a large but not too ostentatious belt buckle on it. I smiled at it, liking the raised relief of the horses in the bronze metal.

"I can make this work," I said to myself as I shut the door to my room.

**Eric **

I had heard Sookie tip-toeing from room to room as I walked in with Johnnie. I didn't have magical hearing skills or anything, it's just that the building was old and the floors squeaked. The fact that she felt the need to tip-toe around in my home made me laugh. She was kind of silly, I liked that.

I heard the clicking of heels a few minutes later, and looked up from the paper I was reading, to see Sookie as she walked down the hall, out into the main room of the apartment. My mouth dropped open. _Holy shit! _Eric Jr. immediately sprung to attention and I moved behind the counter a little more to hide my obvious reaction to Sookie's attire.

She had a meek expression on her face, as if she were unsure of how I'd take seeing her once again in my clothes. I didn't think she realized how much of a turn on that was... Well, maybe now she did. I did have to do a rather awkward side step to get behind the counter after all.

Sookie was wearing my royal blue Dolce dress shirt, and if she were any other girl, I'd be royally pissed. But I couldn't be at her. My shirt swam on her, like the t-shirt I had given her to sleep in did, but she had worked this one to her advantage. Slightly above her waist sat my leather belt I had worn the night before. My large and slightly garish belt buckle, decorated with galloping horses - Pam had given it to me for Christmas one year after a trip to Kentucky - rested neatly in the middle of her abdomen. Perfectly centered. It looked great on her. The belt had gathered the shirt in at the waist, and made it flare at the bottom, creating the illusion that it was a dress. Over it she wore her fitted little coat. The same she had worn last night over her blue dress, except now she had rolled up the long sleeves of my dress shirt and the sleeves of the little coat so that they hit just about midway on her forearms. Right below her elbows. She also had her blue heels on. _Downright edible! _I thought, and Eric Jr. eagerly agreed.

After I had finished my assessment of her outfit, I realized I hadn't spoken for about two minutes during that time. Sookie looked crazy nervous, as if I would scold her for taking my things. I was happy to realized that I loved it both times she had surprised me by taking something of mine and making it hers. The fact that she looked so apologetic about it each time, made me want her to do it more often, just so I could see her cute little blushes.

I started to laugh a little, I couldn't help it. Sookie's face immediately turned from that of apology to hurt and she turned around, getting ready to storm back down the hallway, and probably out of one of the sexiest outfits I'd ever seen.

"Oh no you don't!" I said as I lunged across the kitchen to get to her, grabbing her arm just in time and spinning her back round towards me. She crashed into my chest and her still damp hair flung around and smacked me on the neck. I couldn't help it, I laughed more. Sookie looked furious in my arms and her rage made her all the more adorable.

"Let go of me Eric, I'll go change. I'm sorry for ever..."

I cut her off by kissing her. Muffling her words with my mouth. I tried to put into the kiss my feelings of how amazing I thought she looked in her creative styling of my clothes. As her knees weakened and she started to slump into me, I think I had proved my point. When she moaned into my mouth a few seconds or minutes later - I wasn't counting - I knew it was time to pull away. I forced myself to stop before I took her right there on the kitchen counter. Her face became angry at me again for stopping, and I chuckled more.

"Sookie, if I don't stop kissing you now, we'll never make it to breakfast."

Realization crossed her features and she went back to being meek and nervous in my arms. She looked down as I hugged her to me. Every time I held her, it felt more right, proving further how I never wanted to let this silly girl go.

"Sookie," I said, gaining her attention. She looked up at me, "I love what you've done with my clothes. Please don't change out of them." Her face lit up. My complement did the trick. That and probably the fact that she could feel how much I enjoyed her ensemble as I held her to me, hugging her tightly. I didn't want to be inappropriate, and pressing your hard on into a girl certainly does cross over into that territory, but I just couldn't hold her close enough. Her little hands gripped me tightly back, and I assumed she wasn't put off by it. Thankfully, because Eric Jr. really wasn't planning on calming down anytime soon. Dammit.

_Breakfast is going to be interesting_, I thought.

-----------------------

A/N: Tim Gunn's voice has been in my head this whole damn chapter! "Make it work, make it work." ugh, it's like a broken record!

One thing, I feel obligated to point out and rambled on about.

Okay, I realized AFTER writing this chapter that part of it sounded familiar. Mad familiar. And shit, it was. A story that I knew of already had the whole deal with the belt and the man's shirt. Fuck. I'm not changing it however, because stuff like this does happen and it wasn't intended. At all. I had planned for Sookie to wear Eric's clothes ever since I had her go home with him. That's just how I roll.

I guess the important thing here is that, that bit was necessary, and damn cute too! Plus, I have drawn a picture of the said outfit. That get up can either look mad hot, or a hot mess. I should know, I've rocked it before to avoid a potential walk of shame myself. So really, I was taking from my own life.... that's what we "writers" do and sometimes, things overlap. *le sigh*

The link to the sketch, so y'all can get a visual is now in my profile. Under "Extra Northman's Info" :-)


	15. Chapter 15: Dessert Before the Meal

A/N: More fluff. Then again, wait... isn't fluff like puppies and chocolates and shit? okay, no, that's NOT what's in this chapter. *thinks of a word* hmmm.... foreplay.

Foreplay is what's in this chapter.

I'll just say this: It involves an elevator.

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**Sookie **

Breakfast was going to be... interesting.

I had been rather proud of myself for putting together a kick ass outfit out of nothing but a button down and a belt. The only problem was... I was going commando. Clean underwear was something I couldn't wrangle up, so I simply decided to go without it. This was all good and fine until we got downstairs and I realized how breezy the day was. I kept my arms at my sides, praying that my "dress" would stay put, as Eric walked us to his car that was parked on the street. He graciously opened the passenger's side door for me and helped me into my seat. I smiled and carefully climbed in.

_Okay, obstacle one: getting in the car, accomplished. _

I looked over at Eric as he gracefully folded his long body into the driver's seat, amazed that he could even fit in the tiny car. Eric hadn't showered after me this morning, instead he threw on a pair of clean jeans and fixed his messy blond bed head into a slightly less messy ponytail then he had had earlier. He still somehow managed to smell great. How did he do that?

On his feet were a pair of black flip flops. I giggled at them.

"You don't like my shoes?" He asked.

"No," I responded while quieting my little fit of laughter. "I love your shoes. Isn't it just a little chilly for flip flips though?"

"This from the girl in nothing but a button down and a tiny coat that wouldn't warm a gnat," he smiled over at me as he spoke. Zipping through the tiny streets with ease. I simply nodded as if to say "touche" and looked around at the rows of brownstones passing by. I'd let him get away with that one. It was chilly, but thankfully the sun was out and its warm rays were keeping me from getting too cold.

His corvette had a convertible top and our hair was whipping through the wind as he speedily drove along. Mine had still been damp from the shower. I knew that by the time we arrived at wherever we were meeting Amelia, it'd be a crazed mess, but somehow I didn't care. I let it fly all around my face, as I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, taking in the cool air and the warm sun.

Eric nudged my thigh before taking my hand a few minutes later, bringing it up to his mouth for a kiss. His lips were soft and his breath was hot on my skin. If he wanted my attention, he had it. I lifted my head back up to look at him. He simply waggled his eyebrows at me and said, "look" pointing out to the scenery around us.

I gasped. We were on a bridge! A beautiful one. Gliding over the river that separated Brooklyn and Manhattan, with one of the most impressive views of New York I'd ever seen. I saw the Empire State building for the first time ever out to my right and gasped again. I looked out to my left, wanting to take in everything from this viewpoint. Another landmark caught my eye that was very noticeable from postcards and old movies. The Brooklyn bridge! There it was, with its American flags waving off the top and its old brownish stones, standing stoic in the middle of the river. I laughed with joy. The sun was beating down on the water, and the panoramic view of everything around me was incredible. I felt like I was in a movie.

"What bridge is this?" I asked Eric.

"The Manhattan Bridge, and that," he pointed out to his right, "Is the Williamsburg Bridge. I'm assuming you knew what that one was," he said with a small laugh as he pointed back towards the Brooklyn Bridge. I smiled down at him - at that point, I had turned around and sat up on my knees on the seat, holding onto the back for support.

I kept on looking out towards the left, loving the picture postcard image right in front of me. "Ooo old ships!" I exclaimed and then winced at my own pathetic geekieness.

"Oh, down at the pier? Yeah, That's South Street Seaport. Those old things are permanently docked down there."

"They're so pretty," I said stupidly, my hair still flying all around my head. I had momentarily forgotten that I was in a rather short get up and not wearing underwear. I quickly sat back down, adjusting as I went.

"I'll take you there if you like?" He said, his voice expectant, and I was suddenly brought crashing back to reality. Depending on what Tray and the band had planned, or what Amelia wanted to do, I didn't know if I had time. Then again, couldn't I just spend my last day in the city with Eric? That'd be incredible.

"If we have time," I said softly, and the words hung in the air like the damn reminder they were: _Don't get too happy, you're leaving_. Bastard conscience.

After we had crossed the bridge and I had shouted with joy again at the large monument at its end that looked like the Arch De Triomphe, we veered off to the left. Eric's skill at weaving in and out of the many yellow taxis that passed us astounded me. We then made another left and then a right. I was trying to pay attention, but I had no idea really. The streets were incredibly crowded for it being relatively early, I guess New York never really slept.

"Where are we going?"

Eric smirked, still watching the road as he ran an almost red light by stomping on the gas pedal and speeding through the intersection. "Bob's place."

"Who's Bob?"

"You'll see. Jerry's the cook there. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day, and Jerry's breakfast..." Eric shook his head for dramatic effect as he tried to find the right words, "...it's amazing."

Well, I was excited.

We drove for about five more minutes and I tried to take in as much of the city as I could. Again, were down in lower Manhattan, a place I was really beginning to enjoy. Who needed skyscrapers? Really.

Eric pulled into an underground garage finally and parked. He came around to help me out of the car with a devious smile on his face. I looked at him skeptically, wondering why he looked so sure of himself.

"It was windy on the bridge," he said, answering my unspoken question.

_Oh shiiiiit._ I closed my eyes, my face reddening.

Without another word he bent down and scooped me up out of the car. My eyes shot open. He had the look of a thrilled little kid who knew he'd gotten away with doing something bad.

I started kicking in his arms, as he kicked the door of the corvette shut with his foot. "Put me down Eric," I said as I half struggled, half cringed in embarrassment. All the while, he carried me towards the elevator that would lead us up, out of the garage. Why the hell was no one around to see that I was clearly being abducted? A tiny part of my brain said, _shut up Sookie, you like it._ Then I just started giggling like an idiot, but kept kicking.

"You're gonna loose your shoes doing that," he said, holding me tighter, making sure his arm holding under my thighs kept the shirt in place. "And don't worry, I'll put you down once we're safe in the elevator. I just wouldn't want a stray breeze to come out of nowhere and blow my shirt up off of you. That would horrible." He said in mock concern.

Eric was having _way_ too much fun with the knowledge that I was going commando. I rolled my eyes at him.

When we got to elevator, he pressed the button for it to come get us, and we waited. He never put me down. I decided to try a different technique. I smiled into his neck, nuzzling him. Maybe if I could make him squirm he'd put me down? He shivered slightly as I licked his neck and then blew cool air on his moistened skin. _Okay, I'm getting somewhere... maybe he'll put me down if I make his arms tremble enough?_

I heard the doors of the elevator open and he walked us in. It dinged and the doors slid to a close. We were alone.

_Uh ho... _I stopped nuzzling his neck, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. Or did I? Ah shit, I still couldn't think. One cup of coffee was not enough to get me going in the morning, and he smelled too good not to play with. _God listen to me, I sound like a... oh man, what is this man doing to me?_

The look in Eric's eyes when I pulled away said that he had in fact gotten the wrong idea, and within two seconds he had grabbed my hips and pushed me into the wall of the elevator, holding me right above the stainless steel of the small ledge on the wall. The elevator jolted with our sudden movements. I let out a moan from the force of his shove and the cool of metal under me made me hiss. He apparently really liked both those noises, because he growled in response and pushed his hips into mine.

My legs, having a mind of their own, wrapped themselves around his waist, and _Sweet Jesus, Shepherd of Judah... Hello!_

My eyes widened at feeling him. Eric responded with a sexy smirk and a little seductive groan. He thought at me then, "_Do you mind?_" and even in his head he sounded sarcastic. I smiled back at him and shook my head, half laughing. Not bothered in the slightest that Eric was currently pressing himself into me.

His arm reached out to the side of us and pushed something. The elevator jerked to a stop the next second, rocking me into him once more. My head tilted back. Wow. But suddenly, a little part of me said that this wasn't really the best time. At least, not with our friends waiting for us.

"Eric..." I breathed trying to make my voice steady, "we can't... breakfast..."

"I already know what I want," he said sinking town to his knees, my eyes bugged out more. _Oh god!_ "... and it's right here." He nuzzled he fabric of his shirt right below my belly button, playfully biting at the buttons, before pushing up the hem with his hands. I almost fell forward, not having enough leverage on the small ledge, but Eric caught me and hiked my legs over his shoulders.

Eric looked up at me then, cautiously paused. I just nodded my head at him before he could even ask. He was between my legs, and I was too turned on to care about anything at that point. Eric smiled and dipped his head into me.

I grabbed onto the ledge and held on for dear life. "Mmmmmm," he moaned into me and I shivered. I felt his hot breath on me before his tongue darted out and lapped at the wetness between my legs. I groaned with my head tilting further back, touching the cool surface of the elevator's walls.

"Mmm yes," he said in between licks, "this is exactly what I wanted," before he clamped down fully with his mouth on my clit. I screamed out, and my hips jerked, sending me off the ledge but Eric's hands held my tightly above my hips and pushed me back. The elevator rocked with the movement again, as it hung in between floors and the lights flickered. I shut my eyes, trying to ignore the fact that this was all happening in a public place.

Eric nibbled gently on my most sensitive part, sending sparks of pleasure through me, before returning to his swirling tongue movements inside of me.

I was panting like a rabid dog dying on a hot day within minutes. It only spurred him on more. He shoved his tongue inside of me, finding more sensitive areas and I jerked again, whimpering and quivering under his touch. My legs were full on vibrating at that point and I could feel a small amount of moisture on my forehead, I was getting worked up so much. He wasn't letting me come. He'd work me until the brink and then he'd change movements again.

It was torture.

It was incredible.

I moved one of my hands off of the ledge and into his hair, massaging his scalp gently. Egging him on more. He purred into me, from my touch. The vibrations making me moan even more.

_Soo close..._

My hips started moving on their own. I couldn't control them. Eric's hands dug into my sides, trying to keep me still, but I couldn't really help it. My body was taking over. His eyes shot up to mine, devilish Eric was in full swing. He knew what he was doing... dammit.

"Eric..." I pleaded, "please Eric." I could feel him smile into me as he chuckled. He pulled away slightly and blew on me, his cool breath making me shiver. I felt incredible, but it wasn't what I needed just then. I need his mouth. _Now._

"Eric!" I shouted as my eyes rolled into the back of my head. He wickedly laughed once more before moving in for the kill. _Oh god!_ He clamped down again and didn't let go. He pulled and sucked and swirled and god! One of his arms came down from holding me and he immediately pushed two fingers into me, working me simultaneously with his mouth.

I was a goner. I climaxed and screamed out. I could feel him smiling into me again, his lips pulling back for a second, but he didn't let up. I was a shaking mess, barely able to come down from that first high, yet he pushed for another. _Sweet Jesus!_

He worked me until I couldn't breathe anymore, my voice caught in my throat and my hands gripped onto his hair. After another five minutes he gave me one final sharp little bite and I screamed. I came twice that time.

I lost all control of my body and fell limply forward. Eric caught me, bringing me down off of his shoulders and hugged me to him. I breathed him in as he gently hummed with pleasure. He was radiating with heat and I could still feel his arousal. I felt bad about that, but my arms weren't going to be moving anytime soon it felt like, so I just closed my eyes enjoying the slight aftershocks and the haze that was taking over my brain.

_Fuckwow, that was amazing. _

The elevator jerked into movement the next second and I woke out of my daze, looking around. Eric looked slightly confused as well, so I knew that he hadn't pressed the button to make the elevator move. I realized then that we were sitting on the floor, cuddling.

I "heard" it before I heard them. We had rescuers. I started to giggle into Eric's chest while he looked down at me confused.

"You should stand us up," I said. He did and held me firmly against his body, knowing that my limps hadn't regained their strength yet. Bless him.

The elevator doors were forced open the next second by building workers. Their faces looked panic stricken and one was on a walkie-talkie. "No, we got them," He said. "They seem fine."

"We heard screams," the other workers said, looking back and forth between the two of us. I had to hold back a giggle. Eric, thankfully not missing a beat, took control.

"Uh... yes. The elevator got stuck. She was just scared. She doesn't like small spaces, you see." I looked up at him, impressed. _Nice cover buddy._

"Oh," the workers said in unison. They then ushered us out and stepped in themselves. Inspecting the buttons and the whatnot while we walked on our way, having thanked them for freeing us.

Eric adjusted his pants as we walked. I kissed him on the neck, I couldn't reach up any further. He looked down at me with a satisfied kind of smile, and we linked hands. I was giggling still from a climax high, before realizing that we were in what looked like a hotel. A very nice one at that, with old chic furnishings that didn't seem dated, just a classic New York style you'd see in a good movie. There were contemporary paintings on the walls behind the reception desk, and despite my lack of knowledge with modern art, I liked them.

Eric led me to a door off the main lobby and walked in as if he owned the place. It led to a dinning room, filled with natural light that poured in from the large windows; made soft by their sheer curtains. Dark wood abound, and exposed wooden beams on the ceiling rounded out the subtly masculine atmosphere.

Everyone was sitting at large table near by... Pam, Amelia, Tray, Plaid-button Down, The bassist who's name escaped me and.... _oh my freakin' god_.... Robert De Niro! He was leaning over their table, gesticulating wildly as if he were telling a story. Everyone looked transfixed, even Pam was paying attention. Oh man, how amazing would it be to get told a story by Robert De Niro?

"Bob," Eric exclaimed loudly as we walked in, a happy smile on his face. I looked at him in shock. Eric new Robert DiNero?

"Eric," he said, holding out his arms and patting him roughly on the shoulder, like manly men do. Eric towered over him, but clearly this was De Niro's turf. It actually did look like he owned the place. Maybe he did?

"S'good to see you again. I was just meeting your friends..." he stopped short, having spotted me. His eyes were sparkling with amusement and the lines around them creased further as he bent to take my hand and give it a kiss. I blushed the color of a cherry tomato.

"Well now," he said after straightening, still holding my hand. _Ohmygod! Robert De Niro kissed my hand! _"Who is this lovely woman?" He asked Eric while laying on the charm.

Eric smiled down at me with pride, I blushed harder. "This is Sookie Stackhouse, Bob. Sookie, this is Robert De Niro."

I smiled back at him, probably full on purple at that point. He had that joyous smile on I'd seen so many times in the movies that made him look like a kid. Even with his salt n' pepper hair, and rugged face he still looked like a big kid to me.

"It's lovely to meet you Sookie. Please, enjoy your meal. Jerry was happy to hear that you'd be bringing some friends this time Eric."

Eric rolled his eyes, "Yes, I'm finally socializing."

"And doing a fine job of it too!" Robert De Niro then winked at me. My mouth hit the floor. He laughed and walked off. Waving as he went. I was speechless. A minute passed and we all just stared at the place where Robert De Niro had been. Wow.

"So," Amelia said, breaking the silence. Looking just as giddy as I felt at meeting the quintessential New York celebrity. "Are you two gonna join us for breakfast?"

"We'd love to," Eric said, pulling out a seat for me at the large table. As he pushed the chair back in, he nuzzled my hair with his nose, breathing in. "Mmm..." he hummed before standing and addressing the whole table.

"I'll be back in a few, I just want to thank Bob again for opening the ktichen for us," He turned around with a goofy smile on his face as he walked towards the lobby entrance.

"But, Aren't you hungry?" Pam asked with an arched eyebrow, as if she knew what we had just been up to.

"Nope." he said before lowering his voice to an octave that just dripped with sex, "I already ate."

I choked on the water I had just taken a sip of, and coughed into my napkin. Pam gave me a knowing look from across the table. I heard a small chuckle from behind me as Eric left the dinning room.

_What a cocky bastard,_ I thought, and then smiled into my napkin.

--------------------------------

A/N: Well, that was long.

_That's what she said. _

Yah, no kidding...

Sooooooo, to all you horn dogs out there waiting for some action. You got it. Poor Eric, the man is going to have blue balls by the time I get them out of this dinning room. *sigh* oh well.

I hope Robert De Niro wasn't totally out of left field. Eric and I agree that we want to show Sookie a good time in NYC while she's there. Hence all the details with him driving over the bridge and whatnot. He was giving her a little tour, kinda, sorta.

Oh and in case you're wondering. They're at the Greenwich Hotel. Robert De Niro owns it, and is very proud of it. It opened up last summer. They're in the Ago Restaurant inside. I've never eaten there but lets just assume for the sake of the story that it isn't open for breakfast, hence why they have the dinning room all to themselves. Bob opened it up for Eric cause he's just pimp like that.

The chef there is actually called "Ago" hence the name, but we're calling him Jerry, because I can just picture De Niro saying that name so much more easily than Ago. Ya know? Picture it. "You talkin' to me Ago?" oorrrrr "You talkin' to me Jerry?"

"Jerry" is just so much more New York.

Till next time you Pervs.... ;-)


	16. Chapter 16: Needy in New York

A/N: Thanks to everyone who liked my little De Niro cameo last chaptah.... :-)

Y'all were craving some citrus, and I gave in last chapter with a lemon slice. Don't go asking for a whole bushel yet, cause Sooks and Eric have to figure out their situation first. Otherwise, that's just.... I don't know, emotionally irresponsible.

However, I am a huge fan of sexual tension... booyah, I live on it. So look forward to that, and maybe another slice or two before the big Tropicana Pure Premium explosion.

Ding: "Cleanup, aisle 4".

It wouldn't be a fan fic without a shot o' juice so.... just be patient. *puts on Guns n' Roses album, a bandana and sings along* **"All we need is just a little patience, yeaaaaaa ahhhhhh" **

On with the show!

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**Eric**

I walked back out into the lobby, desperately needing to steady my breathing and get my body under control. Mostly Eric Jr. He had subsided for the most part but when I cracked again and breathed in the scent of her sexy-as-hell windblown hair, he sprung back up to half mast. Damn thing was relentless.

I couldn't really blame him though, Sookie was all I could think about, and that made Eric Jr very happy. It wasn't like he was gonna get his release anytime soon if he kept on acting like that though. Dammit. I couldn't just go into a bathroom and pump one off now, could I? I'm sure Bob wouldn't of minded, but this was his establishment, and that's just plain undignified.

Yet, like an idiot, I allowed myself to think of her.

_She's amazing.... everything about her._

I wasn't planning on attacking her like that in the elevator, and if it wasn't for her nuzzling my neck and placing sloppy amazing kisses all over it, I don't think I would have. I'm not _that_ ashamed of it though. Well, who am I kidding? I'm not ashamed of it at all. That was probably one of the sexiest things I had ever experienced. And the way she responded to me, she was practically vibrating from my touch. I couldn't believe she let me do that to her in an elevator! I just cracked, and the animal in me came out. I was trying to keep that bastard in check, but she was wearing my shirt with nothing on underneath it. Come on!

I didn't even believe it on the bridge. I thought I was hallucinating. Not only was it mad sexy that she was wearing my clothes and sitting in my car, not caring in the slightest that her hair was being whipped around her face in a blonde mess; when she turned around I caught a glimpse of her bare ass, I almost ran us off the bridge. Thank god she was concentrating on not falling backwards off the seat to get a better look at the view, because I had to pull off a tricky swerve to keep us from not becoming a soaking pile of classic automobile metal in the river.

Still, I probably shouldn't attack her again like that in a public place. That wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me. She was incredible though, more delectable than I had imagined, and boy had I imagined! Hence my need for some air.

I saw Bob checking with the receptionist behind the desk in the lobby, and went over to thank him once again.

He responded, "Hey, I'm Italian buddy, we love to feed people and make 'em happy. I'd stay and join you, but I gotta go meet Marty about a project." He slapped me on the shoulder again, with a huge grin on his face. "You hang onto that girl in there. She's a keeper."

Words of sage advice from Robert De Niro. How could I not agree?

I smiled back at him, saying goodbye before walking off through the gilded doors of the main entrance, desperate for another smoke. I think I adjusted my jeans for about the fifth time that morning after lighting up.

I licked my lips, wanting the taste of the tobacco but instead tasted her. I closed my eyes and groaned.

_Oh, that's not helping, _I thought as I turned to face the wall of the building, putting my hand on it for support, and looking down at the ground. Once again, attempting to control my ridiculous need for this silly girl in the dinning room.

I must be a masochist because I licked my lips again, pulling the lingering sweetness of her into my mouth. Wanting to taste it again. Badly. It took me back to the elevator, seeing her eyes half closed and in lust just drove me insane. I just had to play with her though, I couldn't let her come so easily. I wanted to draw out that amazing moment as long as possible. Poor thing, she couldn't even hold herself up afterwards.

I laughed out into the air at the memory, and then took another drag on the cigarette. The cool slow burn of the smoke filling my lungs.

She had screamed my name, and moaned and whimpered. The sexiest sounds I'd ever heard. I'd give anything to hear her scream out in pleasure like that again. I hoped I would get the chance.

I rubbed my hand over my face, trying to get myself together. My lack of sleep from the previous night finally getting to me. Maybe Sookie and I could take another nap later? _Stop trying to get her back into a bed,_ the gentlemanly side of me spouted with distain. Sighed in defeat, nodding my head in agreement. Probably looking crazy in the process.

Dammit, the more time I spent with this girl, the more I just wanted to keep her. Why was her time in New York so short, and why did she have to live so far away? Long distance didn't cover it. Having found her in the first place was incredible, but I wasn't settling for just a few amazing days with her. I wanted more. All of it.

_That's slightly disturbing_. The severity of that thought hitting me. Damn, I was becoming needy.

I took a few more drags off my cigarette, the realization of her imminent departure completely killing my arousal. I flicked the filter into the street and walked back inside. I only had so much time left with Sookie, I shouldn't be wasting any of it without her.

**Sookie**

Eric had been gone for only about five minutes and I had found myself oddly anxious without him. That disturbed me. I had spent less than 24 hours with the man and yet, I was already addicted to his presence. That so wasn't good.

A few minutes later, I heard the doors of the dining room open and turned to see Eric gliding in with an easy smile on his face. I instantly relaxed and turned back round, staring down at my plate, trying to hide the giddy smile on my face. I heard Amelia snicker at me from across the table and looked up at her wit a pointed look.

She responded mentally with, _"smitten much?"_

I just rolled my eyes at her. Eric ghosted his hands over my shoulders a moment later and sat down next to me. I smiled at him as he slipped a hand down between the back of the chair, resting it on the small of my back assuringly. Breakfast then continued comfortably. The boys in the band attempted their best De Niro impersonations as we all begged them to stop, and laughter was frequent. Good food and easy conversation flowed freely.

I was definitely in a New York state of mind.

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A/N: I am PEEVED! I worked on this chapter repeatedly, rewriting it several times. It's simple and short I know, but it was difficult to get down for some ungodly reason, and when I finally got a version I found suitable I clicked "save" and FF decided THEN (at that effing critical moment) that I had to resign in! I lost all of my rewrites!

BALLS!

Needless to say, I managed to rewrite it AGAIN and here it is. Hopefully you'll enjoy it.

I did have a cute A/N before too. About how much Eric loves y'all and how excited Eric Jr. gets, and how impressive it is. But now I am too pissed to even attempt to be witty.

Not to mention I'm stuck in Jersey because of all the snow, while my poor sister is back in NYC having to celebrate her b-day on her own. I made her cupcakes with a Dr. Seuss theme! Now I can't get them to her.... DOUBLE BALLS! Sorry sis.... *cries*

*stalks off into the 2 foot snow drifts outside her house and smokes manically*


	17. Chapter 17: Kidnapping

An awkward silence fell as we all stood up to leave. There was no check, when Tray asked who he was supposed to compensate for the lovely meal, Eric smiled and said Bob had already taken care of it. Tray, being a man's man didn't like that very much, despite the kind sentiment behind it, but accepted and shook Eric's hand none-the-less.

That was all well and good, but there was still that odd stuck feeling hanging in the air. Everyone kind of stood on the balls of their feet, not being able to move from their respective spots, as we all assessed mentally what every other person wanted.

This is always an idiotic social practice, no matter what situation, because I'm the only one who can correctly gauge everyone else's opinions. Right now, they were all wondering who was going to be taking me with them. It was a game of Monkey in the Middle, and I was the ball.

Eric had the upper hand in this however. Literally, considering his hand was still resting on my lower back, and because in my mind, I had one day left in New York; I wanted to spend it with him. Amelia, Tray and the band, I saw all the time. I even lived with Amelia, so why were we still all just standing around like idiots and not speaking?

Pam, who was enjoying this whole scene immensely, wasn't even apart of the group. She was standing off to the side with her arms folded. She wanted to tell Eric something before we left, but other than that she was enjoying our trepidation.

At least someone was.

Eric finally (_it was about damn time!_) cleared his throat a minute later and asked me, "Would you like me to drive you to your hotel?"

I smiled up at him, clearly answering with a yes. His chest swelled to twice the size at my reaction.

_I knew it, _I thought.

He might have looked all calm and collected on the exterior, but he was stewing just as much as me. I couldn't read his thoughts, but body language gave it all away. It was a little bit of an ego boost for me, I must admit. He didn't want to let me go yet.

Eric and Pam had then excused themselves and walked off into the lobby, to speak about business I assumed. Poor Pam, her bar was a soggy pile of ashes on the other side of the island somewhere. And she was still so calm. I guess there's not much else she could do. Getting angry would just be a waste of energy, and she came off to me as a person who never wasted any kind of energy on anything that wasn't absolutely necessary.

Amelia was giving me her maternal look, as Pam and Eric closed the doors to the dinning room behind them. I'd wish she'd go back to that care free friend I had two days ago, who had wanted me and Eric to hook up. Here I was now, wanting to spend time with him more than anything, and she was suddenly being trepidatious? She was blocking her mind off to me but her concern was beginning to dawn on me.

She was all for a fling. A great one night stand experience and memory that I could take home with me. Amelia would have considered it a notch in my belt. A branching out from my normal nun like state. (_What can I say. Do you know how annoyingly unsexy it is to sleep with a man and hear all of his thoughts at the same time? Jesus._)

Amelia had wanted me to be outgoing and adventurous. To enjoy our time in the city. If that meant having a little bit of promiscuous fun, she was all for it. Amelia clearly worked off a different set of morals than mine.

What she didn't want, was for any of this to get serious. Then again, its not like I planned this. The realization that it was serious had hit me over the head just as hard as it had Amelia. I don't think her concern was for Eric not treating me well or anything like that, I think it was for my own feelings when we would have to leave.

The look she was giving me now showed that. She knew somehow. I guess body language conveys a lot? Eric and I certainly were acting close and comfortable around each other. If only she knew what he had just done to me in the elevator! Lordy! But she was right to be concerned. I was serious, damn serious. I wasn't afraid of admitting that, what scared me was tomorrow. I didn't mind feeling the way I did because... I'd never felt it before. What I minded and feared was loosing that feeling. Loosing the one thing that gave me that feeling. Eric.

Sweet Jesus, I was _so_ in over my head.

**Eric **

Pam was just finishing up telling me her plans out in the lobby, while we waiting for the others to come out.

I had liked what Pam was saying. It was smart, certainly an interesting investment, and it meant a change of scene for her. She didn't love New York as much as I did. She liked to experience things, and to her, that meant moving around a lot. Pam was very much like a gypsy, wandering from place to place. She never settled down for longer than five years at a time. She couldn't stand to.

It was almost five years ago now, that I had called up Pam, asking her to help me in this new venture of mine, after obtaining the two properties here in New York. She had had a much harder go of it as well. Her bar was never as well received as mine, and I had always felt saddened by that.

I could understand that it was time for her to try something new yet again. She had been planning for the past several months. The fire was just the catalyst.

Since the property of B Bar was technically hers, she could do what she wanted with it. The insurance money she would now no doubt receive from the fire, would certainly aid her in the new direction she wanted to take her business. I'd gladly support which ever avenue she chose.

Not to mention that this gave me a slight hope for my own future. I wouldn't dare voice it yet, or be so bold as to actually assume my place, but the thought was there. In the back of my mind. Smiling happily at the idea.

Sookie and the others walked out then, and I instantly wanting to go and wrap my arms around her. Or at least hold her hand. Just to feel her skin on mine again. The heat coming from her body. She was always so warm. God, I was addicted.

We went our separate ways after a minute or two of polite goodbyes and quick sets of directions being given out. Amelia wanted to go see Central Park and so did Tray, so Pam helped - rather curtly - with showing them the way. I simply whisked Sookie away as fast as I could before anyone else could get her attention again. We literally had hours left. I was going to make this time with Sookie in the city, the best it could possibly be.

Sookie was about to experience _my_ New York.

The only one that mattered really.

**Sookie **

Eric was holding my hand and walking so fast back towards the elevators I had to practically jog to keep up. He also had a mischievous look in his eyes, like that little kid again. I hoped he wasn't planning a second round in the elevator on our way down.

Then again, that would be amazing.

_Not appropriate! _My brain shouted back.

It was only after we were in the elevator and waiting for it to descend that I finally broke down and started laughing.

Eric was holding my hand and looking up at the numbers getting ready to tick by. When he heard me giggling like an idiot, he smiled and looked down at me. His hand squeezing mine to get my attention.

"What's so funny?" he whispered in my ear, and I shivered from the contact of his breath on my skin again. He chuckled at my little shudder and playfully nibbled my ear lob as I tried to form a coherent sentence to answer with.

"Nothing... just, memories." Eric was moving down my neck now, suckling and licking as he moved us back towards the wall of the elevator for support. Apparently it was play time again? I had closed my eyes, but I did feel my back press into the wall, and the silver bar that I had been sitting on only an hour or so before.

When I opened my eyes, Eric was in front of me, his arms placed on either side of my shoulders as he leaned down, working at the base of my collar bone with his tongue. "What..." _kiss,_ "kind..." _nibble,_ "of..." _lick_, "memories?"

My head lolled against the wall as he spoke, barely registering what he was saying.

God, did I love elevators!

Eric was still looking for an answer as he moved the fabric of the shirt over with his nose ever so slightly so he could have more skin to work with. _Sweet Jesus._

"Sookie?"

_He's looking for an answer Sookie..._ my brain was telling me. How could it even think right now?

"Just..." I stammered, "just..."

Eric cut me off.

"Just what?" He was now staking claim to the valley between my breasts. It seemed he was actually trying to avoid them, but at the same time drive me crazy by teasing every bit of skin showing without daring to unbutton the shirt. He still wanted an answer it seemed and so he dragged his tongue up to the base of my ear, along my neck and whispered again as if warning me, "Sookie?"

"Just... " _my god_, he was driving me insane!

"Just... you!" I practically yelled as he bit into my neck the same second, nibbling and working the sensitive skin. I could feel his lips draw back into a smile a few seconds later, and he withdrew from torturing me. Not that I wanted him to stop. I whimpered sadly in response.

"Good to know," he said as he stood to his full height and moved to walk us to the car.

I opened my eyes sadly, realizing fun time was over, and saw that the elevator had been sitting at the garage level for however the hell long; its door open. A teenage boy in a booth about twenty feet away was staring at us drooling, with his jaw on the floor. Eric laughed as he strode out the open elevator doors. His hand back in mine with the look of triumph on his face. I slapped him on the arm playfully as I cringed into his side, hiding myself from the ogling boy in the booth. Eric just laughed more and hugged me tightly to him.

Eric opened the car door for me, his gentlemanly side taking over again now that we were out of the elevator. Maybe he just had a thing for them? I know I certainly did now.

"Eric," I said as he turned the key and the engine purred to life.

"Hmm?" He had put on a pair of aviators he'd gotten out of the glove compartment. I almost lost my train of thought. The man looked good in anything!

"Uh... you're not really taking me back to my hotel are you?" I didn't ask this to insinuate that I wanted to go back. Quite the opposite actually. I was just hoping that we were on the same page.

He looked over at me with a half smile, if I could see his eyes, I bet they would have read; devious. "No way in hell little lady." He picked up my hand, kissed the back of it, and peeled out of the garage the next second.

I smiled like an idiot to myself as he Eric concentrated on the road. I had been kidnapped by Eric Northman. The day could only get better from here.

----------------------

A/N: Hey! I'm sorry for the wait! I really am. Shit, I suck sometimes. I get into these bouts of not being about to write. They are the bane of my existence. I want to line them all up against a wall and shoot them down with a firing squad. Bang, bang, bang!

I'm not even gonna mention on how behind I am with TNPL... shit, when was the last time I updated that? ugh! Don't remind me. I'll go try and work on it now.

Hope you liked this. More elevator kink for you. :-)

Next chapter is this "fun times in the city" chapter, so you have that to look forward to. They won't be spending all their time in new york, I want them back at Eric's place... we'll see if I get my wish.


	18. Chapter 18: Gelato and Marionettes

A/N: This is a long chapter. Long for me anyway. (4k+... shizz yo) I hope to god that it doesn't drag on, or that its not too corny. I did get a little corny though. They're frolicking around New York, and they're in love. Come on! I'd have to be a heartless bitch to **not** get corny. Lots of details were needed for their day o' fun, so everyone who's been asking for longer chapters, you got your wish.

Took me FOR-EV-ER (Sandlot, anyone?) to write this. I started a bunch of times, scrapped most of them. I'm gonna clean up one I kinda liked and throw it in the Smoking Section soon. Still, I realize it took a long time. Just know that I was trying. _Shit_, was I trying.

I'm rewarding your patience with an Eric POV to start. Don't you love me?

-----------------------------

**Eric**

All I could think of as I drove out of that garage with Sookie on my right, grinning like a little girl who had just gotten an actual pony for her birthday was; where the hell do I take her? What the hell would she want to see? I should have been more prepared for this. If there was anytime I really wanted to be on my A game, this was it. Sookie deserved a good time, and I sure as hell was going to give her one. Hopefully.

_Shit,_ I hated being uncertain.

Of course she didn't know all of the great things that could be seen in New York. She probably had silly ideas about going to the top of the Empire State Building or Times Square....

Not-gonna-fucking-happen.

Midtown was a tourist trap, and a local's nightmare. Or as Pam liked to say, "No one goes there anymore, its too crowded."

New York was more than the blinding lights of Broadway and its skyscrapers. If any out-of-towner should experience it, Sookie should. Still, what to show her first? I groaned internally and pushed the hair out of my face in frustration, as I aimlessly turned and twisted around the streets of Tribeca, with no destination in mind.

Sookie, as if guessing at my musings spoke up, "We going on a joy ride?" she asked with raised eyebrows and a face like a kid who had just seen Disneyland for the first time.

I snorted, the tension that had been building on my side of the car instantly subsiding. "Would you like a driving tour?"

"I'd love one! Amelia and I were gonna do one of those double decker buses but-"

"You wouldn't want to have to pay the hospital bills and insurance, after one of those death traps tipped over during a smog-filled-midtown-traffic-jam left turn?" I supplied helpfully.

She slapped me on the arm. "Nooo..." She was trying to look angry but it just came off as adorable. "I was just going to say that, I would rather drive around with you showing me the sights. Nothing could beat that in my opinion."

_Aw, shit. I think I love you. _

David Cassidy, get out of my head.

"I knew I liked you," I said cheekily, as I picked up her hand to give it a kiss. I desperately wanted to say "love" as much as that scared me, but I didn't want to bring that whole turtle of awkward into the easy flowing conversation. Not yet at least.

So we drove.

I zig-zaged and double backed, winding around the one way streets aimlessly, trying to find little gems of the city to show her. Pointing out small streets that had been named historical districts, giving her a glimpse of what New York used to look like. The one I grew up hearing and reading about. The one I used to love. It was still there, just below the surface, buried beneath the steel and glass. It just took longer to find nowadays.

We were back on the lower east side when I suddenly had an idea. I made a right off of Delancy, onto Orchard and pulled into a rare parking space along the curb of the tiny street. I didn't show my shock, I just let Sookie think it was always that easy to park in the city. _Ha!_

"We getting out?" She asked, all curious and cute like.

"Yup. You like ice cream?"

Her face lit up immediately. "Are you kidding? I love it!"

"Perfect." I got out of the car and walked over to the passenger side, to open up Sookie's door. "Well, this isn't ice cream. It's better," I told her as I offered her my hand to help her out.

She gave me a skeptical look but didn't comment. I walked us to the hole in the wall establishment with its white and blue facade and waited for her to realize that this was where I was taking her.

She looked up at the flag, hanging outside the shop's door with its name printed in matching blue and white. Squinting her eyes, she tried to read the foreign text, "ellll lab-or-ter..."

"Il Laboatorio del Gelato," I supplied so that she didn't have to struggle any further, though her concentrated face was beyond adorably cute.

"Well, I'm lost."

I laughed at that, "gelato is italian ice cream. You've really never had it?"

"Nope," she said with a smile while shrugging her shoulders, looking eager to try something new.

"Oh well then, lets fix that." I draped my arm around her and walked us inside the narrow door into the even narrower shop.

Ten minutes later we were back outside with our gelato. I had chosen hazelnut, while Sookie had picked banana. I beamed at Sookie when she had decided on that flavor. The first time I had ever been to the shop, I had ordered those two flavors. They tasted fucking fabulous together and the coincidental perfection did not pass me by.

Sookie was sitting on the roof of my corvette, and _fuck me_ did she look good on it. I leaned on the back of the car parked in front of mine, so we were facing each other as we ate with our white plastic spoons. Sookie was making little approving noises as she gobbled down her gelato. Her eyes would close every so often, and she'd lick her lips as little drips of the melted treat would escape her mouth.

It was torturous to watch. Maybe getting her gelato wasn't the best idea? I didn't know anyone could look that good eating ice cream. _Damn_.

I put down my half eaten cup, waiting for her to scoop another bite into her mouth. I prayed that it would dribble down a little bit on her chin again, and my wish came true as she pulled her spoon away. I didn't hesitate, I launched myself off of the trunk of the car and moved in for the kill.

I was an inch away from Sookie's face before she even realized. Her breath caught and she stared at me like a deer in headlights.

"You dripped," I said as I placed both my hands on the hood of my corvette, on either side of her hips.

"Did I?" she breathed.

I nodded my head in response, looking down at her mouth. I licked away the sweet sticky gelato slowly, savoring the slight salty taste of her skin mixed with the confection. I moved to her mouth once I was finished, wanting to taste more of her. She eagerly responded to my kiss, moving her hands up around my neck and pulling me in closer.

When she pulled away she said, "Mmmm hazelnut," in a raspy whisper as she gasped for breath. I pulled my lips back into a smile and rested my forehead on hers.

"Mmmm Banana..." I responded.

"What a great combination," she said, slightly panting.

"I know," and kissed her again.

----------------------

After our lazy make out session on the roof of my car - I'd never look at it the same way again - Sookie said that she'd love to see Central Park before it got too dark. The days were still somewhat long, fall barely setting in, so we had plenty of sunlight left, and I couldn't deny her the beauty of the park right before fall. So, off we went.

I speedily made my way up Eight Ave with an idea forming in my head. I knew where I wanted to take her. I just hoped their summer hours were still in full swing, I'd hate to get there and have it be closed down for the fall. My foot laid on the gas pedal a little harder as I zoomed through the traffic, taking advantage of the green lights laid out before me.

We drove along the edge of the park for blocks and blocks as I looked for a place to park near the 81st entrance, by the Natural History Museum. Most people don't realize how huge central park is. Sookie was one of those people, but after about 20 blocks of seeing nothing but stone walls with trees beyond them, I think she understood. Still, her mouth fell open as we entered the massive landscape in the middle of the metropolis. The foliage and lawns still holding onto their summer shades of green.

I snapped a picture of her with my phone before that precious expression of awe left her face. She looked at me shocked but amused, asking to see the candid picture. She laughed when she saw it, but I kept the phone out of her reach, to make sure she didn't erase it. I wanted to remember this day forever, and now I had photographic proof it wasn't a dream. I'd never let her delete it.

**Sookie**

I wanted to delete that picture he had taken of me, I didn't exactly look my best in it. But, something inside me squealed with happiness that he now had a photo of me. A token. Something to remember me by.

That train of thought just depressed me though, since it meant I'd be leaving soon and pushed it away. Instead I focused on what was ahead for the day, and where Eric was taking me next.

We walked along shade covered paths dotted with trees for a short distance, before the landscape opened up, and I saw a beautiful arched bridge. The leaves of the trees hanging over the elegant stone structure were just starting to change to a tinged yellow. Paired with the low sun in the sky, hitting the leaves and defusing its light, everything looked warm and inviting. Like a postcard. Just something, I'd never thought I'd see in New York.

I squeezed Eric's arm in appreciation. He chuckled merrily next to me and I rolled my eyes. _Confident bastard_. He knew this would impress me. I didn't bother calling him out on it though. He was being a fabulous tour guide, and his confidence just made him more endearing to me.

Good grief, I was falling hard.

After walking under the bridge, he led us to the right, following a new path. As we walked along I started to notice little rustic wooden fences sprouting up and late-in-the-season flowers along the way.

"Are we heading towards Middle Earth?" I joked and Eric laughed.

"No," he said, half snorting, half shaking his head.

"Then where?" I asked, exciting building up in me.

"You'll see." He didn't give me any other hints or clues. He actually didn't even speak. We simply just walked along and enjoyed what would certainly be one of the last weeks before fall really started to set in. I silently thanked Tray for touring during this time of year. New York certainly looked picturesque to me.

After a few minutes Eric's feet started to slow and his arm tensed around me. I looked up at his face trying to read him, wondering why his demeanor suddenly changed. Up until then, I had been focusing my eyes on the ground, watching our feet as we walked so close to each other. Enjoying the idea of what that meant.

"Here we are," Eric said and as I turned my face away from his and focused at what was actually in front of us, I gasped.

"What is this place?" I asked, not even trying to hide the awe in my voice. Of course I knew it was a building or house of some kind, in fact, it looked like a fancy log cabin. I just wanted to know what it was used for.

It had dark caramel colored wooden beams stretching across it, in both horizontal and vertical directions, only interrupted by the winsome arched windows that appeared in threes, peppering its exterior. It's roof was steep and topped with two dark rust colored chimneys. There was a balcony visible on the right hand side under the low hanging roof and I had to hold back a squeal, because it gave the house such a whimsical appearance. This was the setting for a fairy tale. I forgot momentarily that I was still in New York City. The little house was simultaneously rustic and fantastical. A contradiction, just like Eric.

I smiled up at him, waiting patiently for his answer.

"Technically, it was a schoolhouse in Sweden. It was built in 1875, and brought to the states for the Centennial in 1876. "

My mouth fell open, "they brought it here!?"

"Yup. Don't ask me how, I just assume it was disassembled and reassembled." Eric shrugged as he spoke, as if transporting an entire building cross an ocean was nothing at all.

"Well damn," I put my hands on my hips and gave it another good look.

"It's a puppet theater," Eric said, while rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked slightly nervous. I reveled in that, Eric seemed to me the kind of guy who never allowed himself to be nervous. I savored the moment, smiling contentedly.

_Finally the confidence cracks_, I thought.

"Puppets?" I had to hold back a smirk.

"Yes, marionettes."

Secretly, I was overjoyed. My favorite bit in Sound of Music was that damn puppet show. I had watched it countless times. "_High on the hill with the lonely goat herd...." _ I sang to myself. I was squealing with delight on the inside. Eric had brought me to a magical little oasis in the middle of Central Park. It had a connection to him as well because of its origin, which made it all the better. I couldn't have been happier.

However, it was too funny seeing Eric stew over my reaction to the charming theater. So like a prospect buyer at an open house, I tried to stay cool and collected, not giving any emotion away. I wanted to see how freaked Eric would allow himself to get. It was just too much fun to see such a strong, in control man like himself fray at the edges.

He had a silent debate in his head, I could hear the rapid Swedish ricochetting around his brain, and even sensed the nerves coming out of his thoughts. After about 20 seconds, he cracked and brought a hand up to run through his hair. That was definitely his tell when he was frustrated, and I broke out laughing.

"What?" he said, looking exasperated. I turned away from his bewildered face, giggling like a school girl. I felt him coming up behind me and immediately started to sprint away from him, laughing even harder.

I ran down the shade-covered, garden path that lead around the theater, before diverting behind a tree and onto a patch of grass nearby. Eric was fast behind me, smirking devilishly as he crouched, getting ready to pounce.

We were just playing but the look in his eye and the fact that he was chasing me for some reason made my stomach flip with anticipation. I was a giggling excited mess. I made one last ditch effort to sprint out of his grasp, but he caught me. His two large hands clasped around my waist and threw me up into the air like a rag doll. He caught me gracefully as I came down and held me flush against his chest, as if our bodily contact were the answer to life. (Thank god no one was around, because they would have gotten a show. I was in a short getup with no undies.... hello!)

The mood changed from playful to serious the next second. My back was pressed into Eric and and I could feel his heaving breaths, as his chest moved up and down behind me. My breaths likewise, heaved right back. His head hanged low over my shoulder and his nose nuzzled at the spot on my neck right beneath my ear. I was completely enveloped by him. His arms grasped around my waist and shoulders, and even his hair cascaded over mine.

There we stood, on that shaded patch of grass for god knows how long. An overwhelming sense of foreboding that this day would come to an end crept up in us again, and Eric seemed paralyzed by it. I didn't mind that he couldn't seem to let me go, or want to. I held him right back, allowing our breathing to even out and flow together in a tandem rhythm.

I so desperately wanted to know his thoughts in that moment. Mostly just to reassure myself that he too was feeling _it_. It! That inexplicable thing between us. We had been so honest and upfront with our emotions the past few days, I didn't want him to start holding them in now. Surely his actions weren't hiding his feelings, but for some reason I felt the need to shout the words. I wanted him to shout too. I wanted that declaration.

I sighed, heavily and sunk into his arms more. My chin resting on his forearm. Children were gathering around the theater and their joyous little shouts of laughter brought us out of our suspended bubble. Real life, telling us once more to let go.

I hated real life sometimes.

**Eric**

I had never been more nervous it seemed. I hated myself for getting so worked up. When she told me in the car she wanted to see Central Park, the light bulb went off over my head, and I thought how brilliant it would be to bring her to the Swedish cottage with the puppet theater. Pam had brought me there for the first time. For some strange reason unbeknownst to me, Pam loved marionettes. (insert eye roll here) She also wanted to show me the place, after I complained at the lack of Scandinavian connections I had in New York. I gave her an exasperated look when she said the cottage was Swedish, like me, and that I could come visit if I was homesick.

That Pam, such a sweetie. Her sarcasm didn't escape me. Not even slightly.

It was an enchanting bit of the park though. For some reason, I just knew Sookie would like it. Or at least I thought she would. I was normally so confident, my lack of conviction when it came to this worried me.

It didn't worry Sookie however, I could practically see her trying to hold back a laugh as I explained to her what the little cottage was for. She seemed impressed by its age, and how it had been transported such a far distance, but when I told her that it was a puppet theater, she held back her emotions. I could see her assessing mine in fact. I hated that. She could tell I was nervous. Dammit.

She then broke out laughing and started to sprint away from me like a little kid. I guess the fairy tale like atmosphere just made one regress back to a child like mentality? I chased after her as if we were at recess, playing tag. Crouching low and chuckling along with her giggles.

She darted behind a tree trying to hide, but I double backed and pounced. Grabbing onto her waist and throwing her up in the air. Something snapped then, as I watched her fall back down into my arms. The actual physical act of letting go of her made me ache for that split second, and I compensated by crushing her to my chest after I caught her. Her little body was warm as I wrapped mine around it, taking in her heat, and breathing in the scent of her hair. I could smell a hint of my lingering shampoo and I smiled at that. I liked that a part of me was left with her, and she likewise had left a part of her with me.

It wasn't tangible, like her in my shirt, but it was present nonetheless. I knew when I went back to my apartment I'd see her in it. The mocasins she wore. My second bedroom that I would now only see Sookie as ever sleeping in. The coffee mug that she drank from....

This wasn't healthy. I shouldn't allow a woman to have such a hold on me as she did. Ironic, considering I was the one who was embracing her for all I was worth at that moment. She leaned back into me though and rested her chin on my forearm. Her breathing evening out with mine as if we were one entity.

Children's laughter cut through the silence, breaking the tension of the moment and I knew I would have to let go and join reality again. I exhaled heavily and untangled myself from her. I was looking forward to seeing her reaction to the little performance anyway, and I was surprised we were on time for one of them. So, with another heavy sigh I grabbed onto her hand, and lead her back out to the path towards to the front of the cottage.

As we walked up the porch, Sookie hesitated for a second and then started to giggle again. I was thoroughly confused.

"What's with the giggling today?" I asked, smiling down at her slightly flushed face.

"The door Eric," and she pointed toward the quaint arched doorway before us.

"Yes, that's how you get in."

"Well, its how normal sized people and children get in. You.... " she gestured with her hand between me and the door and snickered. "... not so much."

"It's all in the waist," I said as we made our way forward, me bending practically halfway over in order to enter the rather dwarfed doorway. Pam had said the same thing when she brought me here. Why did women have to be so observant?

**Sookie**

The inside of the theater was just as enchanting as its exterior. Though, I worried constantly that Eric would bump his head. Ironic, I thought everyone in Scandinavia was known for being tall? Here was a Scandinavian house and it had low ceilings. I had to hold back another giggle.

The theater was just as lilliputian, to match the stature of its miniature performers. It was charming though, with hand painted details and dark wooden walls. There were no seats, just a spacious floor that the children with their parents would sprawl out on, with an 'aisle' down the middle.

It was adorable except for one thing, I was in a shirt, doubling as a dress, and it was very short. There was no way I was going to be able to sit on the floor with my legs folded. _Hell no_. So, I simply hung towards the back. I was fine with standing against the back wall, out of the way.

Eric was having none of that. He pulled me down into his lap so that my legs were out in front of him, with his folded underneath mine. I kept them closed tight and smoothed down the shirt. This was _so_ not the place to have a wardrobe malfunction. Lordy.

No malfunctions were had though. The lights went down, the curtain went up and the marionettes appeared. The children around us gasped and awed, laughed and screamed. I leaned back into Eric's chest and he rested his chin on my shoulder, and when the little performance ended I clapped just as enthusiastically as the children around me. I couldn't help it.

---------------------------

Afterwards, we wandered through a rock garden near by called The Shakespeare Garden. Eric said that every summer they put up productions of Shakespeare plays here in the park for free, and that the stage was close by. Hence the garden's name.

"I'd love to see one of those!" I said, grasping his arm and practically bouncing up and down like a 5 year old. (I was still in my enchanted child-like state from the puppet show.) I had never seen a play of Shakespeare's performed live, and the prospect seemed utterly exciting.

"I'll gladly take you," he said, but his eyes darkened immediately afterwards. I wanted to hit myself in the head. I had idiotically brought up the subject of time, successfully ruining the light and happy moment.

_Nice job Sookie_,_ Idiot._

"Eric," I said, steeling my resolve then and there.

"Hmmm...?" He answered but his face was far off, he was clearly thinking of something else.

"Can we go back to Brooklyn?"

He didn't need to be asked twice, he nodded his head sharply and shot off towards what I assumed was the direction of the exit. I kept up with his long strides easily.

Time was our enemy, I didn't want to let it win.

---------------

A/N: First things first. Pam's quote, "No one goes there anymore, it's too crowded" is actually Yogi Berra's. Legendary New York Yankee and a total humorist. Gotta love him.

Second things second. Yes, I'm ending it there, don't bitch. This was the big hurdle chapter, and it was a surprisingly hard to get through, despite its rather happy tone.

Third: All the places described in this chapter are real, though I've never been inside the puppet theater. *makes sad face* I'm gonna add another little fact section to the 'Northman's info' on my profile in case you want some background on them. AND! The banana gelato at the gelato joint is to die for! My god. Sooo good!

I know what's happening next and I'm pretty sure I can write it out fairly quickly. If anything, quicker than it took to write this.

Hopefully you enjoyed it, please tell me what you think. :-)


	19. Chapter 19: Back at the Apartment

A/N: Wow, another 4k plus chapter. I must really love you guys.

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The drive back was silent.

Mostly.

If something interesting passed us by, Eric would point it out and explain, or if I asked a question, he'd answer. But mostly, it was quiet.

Jesus, it was tense.

By the time Eric rounded left off the Bowery and onto the bridge I was so strained from the tension around us, I could barely breathe. All of my muscles were clenching up, as if I hadn't had a glass of water in weeks. My fingers drummed restlessly on the white leather seats, while my feet tapped the floor involuntarily. Thankfully Eric didn't seem to notice, because I was even pissing my self off from the noise.

I wasn't the only one showing signs of stress, Eric likewise was holding the steering wheel so tight, his already pale knuckles looked white against it. I could see the tendons in his neck pulse, and watched as he repeatedly swallowed nothing at all.

This was some kind of sick combination of foreboding and anticipation. I hated it. They were the worse two emotions to feel simultaneously. I couldn't allow myself to be excited because I was so worked down by it all, and my nerves were on a razor's edge by the time we had wound our way into the heart of Eric's Brooklyn neighborhood.

Eric turned onto a street I recognized as his own and parked along the curb a few doors down from his building. He cut the engine, wrenched up the parking break and sat stock still. Staring straight ahead out his windshield, practically heaving he was taking such deep breaths.

I didn't blame him.

While he stared ahead, I stared at him. A thousand questions firing around in my head. I think I was actually getting a headache from them all, I was trying so hard to ignore them. To push them away. _Rain, rain, go away, come back another day, _played in my head, like a soundtrack to the moment.

That song never sounded so melancholy.

"I don't know what to do," I said. It wasn't desperate, it was honest.

Eric shook his head and looked down at the wheel. His jaw clenched. "I don't know either."

"I think I know what I want to do..." I said, trailing off and looking down at my hands, so I wouldn't have to see his strained face. That didn't help though, all I saw was his shirt. I looked back up and out the side of the car. Focusing on the bark of a small tree nearby.

"What do you want to do?" Eric asked and his voice sounded tense, but I knew he was looking at me.

I didn't answer. It's not that I didn't have an answer to give him, I did. I just forgot somehow to say it. There was an ant crawling up the tree. I zoned out slightly watching its tiny legs move itself along a straight vertical incline. _How do ants do that and not fall?_ I wondered.

"I know what I want." Eric said, breaking me from my reverie a moment later.

I tore my gaze away from the ant and looked down again, picking at one of the buttons on his shirt. "What's that?" I was quiet, but he heard me.

It was his turn to freeze. This was a very vulnerable moment. A whole lotta shit was about to get laid out on the table. I could taste it.

Eric didn't hesitate though like I thought he would. He surprised me again.

"I want_ you_, Sookie."

The breath I didn't know I was holding burst out of me then, in utter relief. I started to smile, but shook my head at the same time, as if my body couldn't believe what he had just said. Maybe I didn't want to believe it, because that meant that I had to be that brave and admit too. I wanted him. I did. But more than that even. I think I loved him.

Eric was leaning in, his long shaggy hair falling onto my shoulder. I could feel his breath hitting my face he had gotten so close. I continued to stare at my hand picking at the buttons of his blue shirt, but I leaned my body over, into his as if on instinct. I rested my head on his shoulder and he likewise rested his head on mine.

There we sat, leaning on each other, enveloped in each other's scent and total defeated acceptance of our rather odd situation. Eric had already spoken his peace though. It was my turn, and he was waiting for me to make the call.

I still had been absentmindedly playing with the buttons on my lap when Eric's hand came over to arrest my movements and give my hand a little squeeze of reassurance. I cracked.

"Lets go upstairs," I said.

Eric gave my hand one more squeeze before he let it go to get out of the car. I stared at the place where his hand had been on mine. Amazed at how much I missed even the simplest of touches from him.

My door open and Eric's hand was offered to me again. I took it with relief. I had missed it too much in those few seconds. I was clearly crazy.

**Eric **

I would have gladly sat in that car for the rest of the day if Sookie had wanted to. Just leaning on her, feeling her lean on me, wrapped up in each other. In our bubble. It was its own kind of heaven.

But when she said, "Lets go upstairs," I'm not going to lie, the animalistic Eric inside of me did a fucking back flip. It wasn't so much the being with her part that excited me. It was everything else too. Seeing her smile, watching her emotions drift across her face. Even something as simple as holding her hand. Hell, just having her near me was fine. Just as long as she was there.

As we walked up the steps, and my arm draped over her shoulder, I thought about how little time we had left. How even though we were both, healthy, happy and alive, this seemed like a funeral march because within the next dozen hours or so, Sookie would have to leave. I knew she was thinking about it too. The silence before me had never been so loud.

This realization, as we trekked up the stairs made things seem desperate. Who was I kidding? They were desperate. By the first landing we were clinging onto each other, just wanting the contact. Craving it. On the second landing, Sookie paused for a minute and pulled me to her, hugging me. Burying her face in my chest. After a few moments, I just didn't want to let her go - it was a pattern with me - and so I simply scooped up her legs. They instantly wrapped themselves around me, fitting perfectly around my hips, and I continued on up to my floor. Carrying Sookie the rest of the way.

On the second to last step Sookie started to kiss my neck. I groaned, almost dropping the keys, she was distracting me so fully, but thankfully I had gotten them into the lock on the first try.

The door slammed into the wall as I kicked it open with my foot. Sookie lost her hold on me from the force of the kick and slid down slightly, keeping one leg wrapped around my thigh, as the other one found balance on the ground. I was happy to finally see that she couldn't let go of me either. It made me feel less crazy for desperately needing her touch.

I was fumbling, trying to close the heavy wooden door once we were safely inside, but Sookie kept on getting in the way. Not on purpose of course, I just didn't want my neighbors to walk down the stairs and get a show is all. This was our moment, no one else's.

We were a jumble of mussed clothes and tangled limbs. Falling over each other as we moved around in endless circles trying to get a better hold onto one another. The soft sensual kisses Sookie had been leaving along my neck, had since progressed into desperate, air deprived ones on my mouth. Ones I eagerly responded to. Oxygen be damned.

The door just wouldn't close, and Sookie had pulled away, working on that sensitive spot at the junction of my neck and collarbone, when I just decided to grab her ass and pick her up again. I didn't mean to be animalistic, but her squeal of approval and slight giggle as she wrapped herself around me just urged me further. I gave her a little smack on the rear and she yelped.

Everything she did, every reaction she had, just seemed to make me harder.

With Sookie securely wrapped around my waist I was free to slam the door close and snap the deadbolt into place. Johnnie Walker came bounding down the hall with a goofy look on his face. This was _not _the time.

"Out!" I ordered, and walked over to the terrace doors - carrying Sookie with me, she was nuzzling the crook between my neck and collarbone again. God, she loved that spot. I'd have to reciprocate soon to show my appreciation.

I wrenched the terrace doors open, and didn't bother to close them, only the screen to keep Johnnie out. The breeze coming through off the water was warm, and felt cool against our fevered skin.

God, _the terrace,_ what I would give to make love to Sookie out there; in the night air, hearing her moans echo and carry out on the breeze as it brushed past our naked bodies. I groaned at the thought, my hard on somehow swelling even more. I didn't think it was possible. Sookie obviously noticed, she shifted herself around my waist, closing her eyes and throwing her head back at the friction it caused. She was positively radiating heat.

I was also still well aware of her lack of underwear, and the fact that I was still wearing jeans. Dammit. That needed to be rectified, and soon.

I attacked her neck with my mouth, taking advantage of her exposed skin. Growling into her collarbone and nipping at it, showing my appreciation for her own kisses she had left on my neck, as she basically gyrated up and down on me. The friction this caused between our bodies and the denim was both incredible and yet, agonizingly inadequate. I wanted to feel my skin on hers, to feel her heat, her wetness.

She had brought her head forward again and was currently doing that amazing sloppy kiss thing, with the licking and sucking. The kind of kisses that made me attack her in the elevator like some kind of animal. The urge to do that again was building up in me and I didn't know how much longer I could hold my composure.

_What composure? You're dry humping her in your living room!_

I pushed back my silly conscience, and gave her hair a tug. It brought her head back up in front of me and I kissed her mouth with abandon. Our pantings and moans were getting louder by the second, and I didn't care that I couldn't breath. Sookie's hot breath was in my mouth, along with her tongue. That was enough for me.

My body was on autopilot it seemed, because before I realized it we were at the threshold of my bedroom. The countertop in the kitchen was looking too appealing to me, and Sookie deserved a soft surface to be made love on. Though, the countertop would be fabulous.

_Later_, I thought.

Clothes needed to be dealt with. Immediately. I ripped Sookie's silly little jacket off of her, and threw it god knows where. My shirt went next, and Sookie's whimper of approval as she took in my broad chest didn't help any with the current situation I had in my pants. It was just full on painful now.

"Sookie, I need to get these pants off," I spoke into her mouth. She chuckled back at me, and her hands dropped to the button of my jeans. Thank god I had gone without the belt today.

"Let me lie you down," I almost whispered and she nodded. So I placed her on the edge of the bed and backed up, giving me room to work out of my jeans.

**Sookie**

Rational thought had left me in out in the hallway, but somehow I just knew that this wasn't wrong. It felt too good to be wrong. I had never smoked, never done drugs and kept my drinking to a minimum. I could allow myself Eric Northman. More than that, I was pretty sure I loved him. I was drunk on the thought. It only made me ache more for him.

When he had taken off his shirt, I had whimpered he looked so beautiful. I greedily ran my hands up and down his chest, want to kiss every piece of exposed skin I could get my mouth on. He said he wanted to get out of his jeans though, and who was I to deny the man? If he wanted to get naked, so be it. We were wearing too many clothes anyway.

He watched me, watching him as he unzipped and let his poor straining cock out of its constraints of his tight jeans. Another wave of lust came over me when I saw he wasn't wearing any underwear. He never should.

I literally licked my lips when I saw him naked before me. It was certainly a glorious sight to behold. He again watched my reactions, judging them, and when my tongue came out to lick my dry lips, Eric's eyes visibly darkened with want. I groaned from my perch on the bed. Even his looks made me ache.

My arms gave out and my body fell limp on the bed. I was so filled with need, I literally couldn't think. I didn't need to. Eric was unbuttoning my shirt. Or rather his. When he reached the belt, he unbuckled it and pulled out from under me in one quick motion. It made me yelp again. The shirt was gone soon after. _Bye Bye Dolce, you served me well._

Eric leaned back and dipped his head between my legs, they spread themselves involuntarily. "Fuck," he said into me, and his hot breath on my sensitive skin made me shiver. "You're so wet." He moved up my body to my now exposed and waiting breasts. Taking one into his mouth and lapping his tongue around the nipple. I arched into him, brining my arms up to play in his hair, that was falling all over me. Ticking and teasing me with gentle brushes and caresses.

"You're so beautiful Sookie," He said looking into my eyes. I turned my head, feeling silly from the complement.

I spoke into the down comforter, "So are you," and Eric chuckled above me slightly. The movements of his contouring stomach made his penis graze against me and my hips instantly shifted to feel more. I couldn't wait anymore.

"I need you Eric," I said taking his head in my hands. I expected him to tear into me. I wanted it. Fuck, I needed it, but he pulled away and left me, aching on the bed.

"Condom," his husky voice sounded from somewhere near the dresser. Thank god someone was thinking rationally. I had forgotten bout that.

Within 30 seconds he was back above me. I was impressed. I took his head in my hands again and repeated my words, "I need you Eric." Giving weight to each word. "I need you inside of me." I wanted him to understand how okay I was with this situation. How much I wanted it. How much I wanted him.

His eyes were dilated and his face was fierce. I took one hand and reached in between us, guiding him to my already slick opening. He gasped when I touched him and his eyes clenched. I had never effected a man like I had Eric with such a simple touch. When he started to move into me, slowly and carefully, it was my turn to clench my eyes shut. I wasn't a very experienced woman, and he was bigger than anything I had ever imagined. Not grossly so, but god, I looked down when I thought he was all the way in and he was barely halfway. _Jesus._

"Eric," I gasped. He was being so careful, so gentle. I appreciated it, but I couldn't handle this painstaking pace. I arched into him, helping him push further into me and gasped again as he went a few inches deeper. I heard a rumble in his chest. I knew it was hard for him to move this slow. I knew there was an animalistic side to him. I had seen it in the elevator. I wanted him to let it out.

"Put your legs around me Sookie," he said and I did, urging him to do anything he wanted. It hitched my hips up and allowed him even more room and I felt his hips meet mine. He was in. Sweet Jesus, I had never felt so filled.

Eric growled, "My god Sookie," and he closed his eyes. I nodded my head fiercely, agreeing. I knew exactly how he felt. I brought his mouth down to mine by grabbing onto his hair and pulling him closer, and Eric, after a few moments started to move. I gasped again. That added a whole new level of wow to the situation. He felt incredible in me, but nothing compared to him moving inside of me. He pulled out almost completely and this time he didn't glide gently back in, he thrusted.

My back arched and my head flew back. He had hit spots I didn't think existed.

As if guessing at my thoughts, I saw him smirk above me and he leaned in, "I'm just getting started Sookie," he whispered huskily into my ear and I almost came right then and there. Something this incredible couldn't last long, could it?

It did.

Eric worked me into a frenzy. I was practically shouting expletives within minutes, and I wasn't one to be loud during sex. Then again, I had never slept with Eric before. If this was how intense sex was supposed to be, Lordy had I been missing out.

The first time I came, I barely had time to ride it out, before Eric was working me up to another. When his thrusts became more desperate and hurried I knew it was his turn. I locked my legs around his hips and moved up to meet his thrusts just as desperately.

_Look at me_, I heard him think. He was deliberately thinking in English. I wouldn't dare look away. I was so close to another climax and I wanted him to come with me.

"Come with me Eric," I said and he groaned above me, picking up the pace even more. I was going to loose my sanity if he kept that up. Our bodies by then were covered with a sheen of sweat and Eric's pale face was flushed pink. We were naked, flushed raw and real. This was real, it wasn't a dream. I almost couldn't believe it.

He closed his eyes for a moment, unable to keep them open any longer. When he did open them back up, one more thought passed into me, _I love you Sookie. I love you_. Even in his mind, he sounded desperate to declare it.

"I love you," I gasped at the realization that I allowed myself to say it out loud, and felt myself explode once again as Eric came at my words. His head flew back and he moved in me a few more deliberately slow yet forceful times. I rocked my hips with his, riding out the glorious high.

I thought he was going to collapse on top of me, as his arms began to shake from being so spent, but he didn't. He fell to the side and rolled me with him, circling his arms around me, as we slowly moved our hips together. Aftershocks shot through me at his gentle movements, and the friction of our skin on skin. Our bodies practically buzzing from the memory of the sensation. I planted lazy kisses along his chest, and he buried his face in my hair. His hands pressing me further into him.

We laid there, clinging desperately to each other for a long while. Our sweaty skin cooled from the gentle breeze of Eric's open window, and I only started to stir when I realized that the sky was darkening slightly. I would have gladly fallen asleep in his arms, but I wanted to stay awake. Making these last hours count.

Eric took my head in his hands and made me look at him. His face was scared and vulnerable. I didn't understand it.

I stared at him questioningly, smoothing his hair out of his face.

**Eric **

_She was leaving._ I was paralyzed by the thought. Sookie had simply stirred from her spot next to me and I almost panicked, thinking that she would leave me and never come back. She probably just need to pee or something, but I had to look in her eyes again and make sure that we were on the same page. Like we had been for the past few incredible days. This was no longer just an intense infatuation. A fling. A fleeting romance. It never was for me. And I'm pretty sure I knew it wasn't for her either.

Sookie had told me she loved me out loud, and now it was my turn to return the sentiment. She deserved to hear it. More than anything, I just wanted to be able to fucking say it. I had felt it for the past two days, and had kept it bottled up.

_Please don't leave me_, I thought._ Please don't,_ as I stared into her face. "I love you Sookie. I know it. I do."

"I know," she said as she worriedly assessed my face. She was still running her hands through my hair, trying to console me I guess. I probably looked like I was about to cry or some crazy shit like that. God, the things this woman does to me.

"I know you know," I said, smirking at her. "Its just, some things are meant to be said out loud. And if anything, I love you, is one of them."

And with that I got up and brought her with me. It had been a long day, and we had worked ourselves out. It was time to show Sookie just how amazing my shower could be. "Come on, lets get clean."

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A/N: *groans* Ugh, I got sappy on you. I know y'all love to see Eric as this bad ass kinda guy. But this version is troubled, and has issues. He lost his lady remember? He can't stand the thought of loosing another. Plus, emotion is healthy. :-)

To all you have been waiting for this patiently.... oh who the hell am I kidding, NONE of you have been patient, but you waited none the less. Thank you for doing so. I know it took a long time to get here. But now that we are, you can expect more. I can say that easily. You're gonna get some more next chapter even. This wasn't really a 'Tropicana Pure Premium Explosion'.... but maybe some countertop, terrace or shower nookie will be. *shrugs* hahahaha. We'll see.

However! There is some "fail" ahead, to use the FF lingo. There is. This isn't gonna be all unicorns and rainbows y'all. Well, I'm a happy ending nut, so of course it will end up like that. (hopefully) but right now, there are some obstacles in front of them.

See you soon. Gonna go spend some time with my high school Hell Cat now.

p.s. Y'all still voting for the Viking over on E! Online. Seriously, Dean from Gilmore Girls can not beat him. That's just ridiculous.


	20. Chapter 20: Time

A/N: Well, its been a while. I know. I have a Hellcat in my head and sometimes he won't let me be.

To make up for that, I now give you a very descriptive and citrusy chapter. I feel kind of wrong actually. There's only so many ways to describe something. *sigh* I tried to keep it interesting.

**S. Meadows**, my second set of sober eyes. I thank you. :-)

I hope y'all enjoy 6.7k worth of lemons annnnd something else that rhymes with 'mail'. *double sigh*

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**Sookie**

Eric led me to the bathroom, completely nonchalant about the fact that we were both naked. I sort of tip-toed behind him, with my arm covering my chest as best I could. I knew we were alone, but I just felt a little silly running around in my birthday suit. Eric of course didn't give a heel. He walked in front of me, taller than ever with that nice post coital glow all over him. I smiled to myself, knowing I most definitely had a part in that. I was also smiling because from this vantage point, I was getting a fabulous view of his rather fabulous ass.

I giggled as he playfully dragged me through the bathroom door, shutting it behind us. "What are we doing?" I asked, feeling a little cold from the breeze that had been blowing down the hallway from the open terrace door. Which I'm sure Eric didn't mind the results of in the slightest.

"Getting clean," Eric said. The smile he paired with his answer made my knees weak. Lordy was he in a good mood.

"Together?"

"Yes, because we got plenty dirty today... together," he said as he closed the space between us, wrapping his arms around my lower back. "All that grime from the city."

"Mmmmhmm," I said sarcastically as I continued to hold my arms over my chest.

"Why are you covering yourself?" Eric asked, his eyebrow arching in actual curiosity.

"I just feel a little silly, that's all."

"You Americans," he said off handedly before kissing my forehead and then looking directly into my eyes. I almost fell backwards; there was so much intensity behind them. "Sookie, you are a beautiful woman. Never feel 'silly' about being nude and showing off that beauty."

"Well thank you Eric, but streaking really isn't my thing."

He laughed, "I understand."

The conversation halted there, and I could sense tension in the air. This was the worst part of the day, when that horrible pang of consciousness crept back into our psyches. We couldn't just be carefree; we couldn't just be in love and freaking proud to admit it. Time was not on our side.

I started to shake with worry, or with fatigue... maybe my legs just didn't want to work anymore after having Eric in between them? For whatever reason, I felt weak, and wanted to be closer to Eric more than anything. I kissed him then, pulling his face down to mine, teasing him with my tongue. My arms went slack and I gingerly held onto his biceps as he pulled me even closer. I could feel him hardening as our bodies reveled in the friction of the skin on skin contact.

Eric removed one of his hands from behind my back and I heard the spray of the shower heads sputter to life. I squealed in delight and slight shock as his cold wet hand from the shower came and gave me a smack on the butt. Eric growled at my response and I immediately felt like I'd been set on fire from it. His growl causing a visceral reaction within me. He rubbed his hand around my butt cheek and then slid it up the spine of my back, tickling my fevered skin with his cold fingers. I shivered into him, and my wiggles only made him moan more.

God, I loved that sound. I could feel it vibrating in his chest, and the sensation encased me.

I giggled into Eric's mouth, when he hitched one of my legs up around his thigh, the anticipation growing. My body literally felt like it would self combust if I didn't cool it down soon. Being under the cool spray of the shower with Eric would be just about the most heavenly thing I could imagine right then.

Eric surprised me though by pulling away, "Wait, shit." He rubbed his hand over his face, and looked utterly frustrated. I was just a little bit more than confused.

"What?" I asked, paranoia setting in.

"This is wrong," he muttered again, and my stomach dropped. What did he mean?

"Eric?" I asked warningly, dropping my leg from its position curled around his calf.

"I didn't want to attack you like this again."

What the hell was he talking about?

"Eric, _I_ kissed _you_."

"I know."

"So, no one attacked anyone," I retorted, as I lost a little of my cool. "Eric, I'm standing in a bathroom, naked with you, practically groping that fine ass of yours!"

He looked down at me and I could literally see the light bulb flick on above his head. "Oh! No, I meant..." He rubbed his face again. He sighed and then it was his turn to look like he felt exposed. "I wanted to take the time to just shower with you. Take in that beautiful body of yours. Massage your shoulders and wash your hair. Watch the soap suds run down your curves..." he let the sentence trail off. He had clearly given this a lot of thought.

"Oh," I said, my fear and anger of rejection dying in me instantly. Was this man real? He wanted to take the time to wash my hair and give me a massage? In the shower? I blinked rapidly a few times at his curious face. Then I realized something, and laughed.

"What?" Eric said, sounding slightly offended but mostly just amused by my outburst of giggles.

I quieted and asked my question with as straight a face as I could muster, "Would it be a Swedish massage?"

He rolled his eyes at me, but before I could even get the chance to giggle again, he kissed me, successfully shutting me up. His mouth practically enveloped mine and I felt his hot breath on my tongue. I responded in kind and soon we were rocking and holding onto each other just as passionately as we had been a few minutes prior.

Just about when I thought I'd pass out from lack of oxygen Eric pulled away and nibbled along my jaw line to my ear. I gasped in the heavenly air, while simultaneously taking in the sensation of his slight stubble scratching my jaw. The prickly pain only adding to the pleasure of the moment. I felt his tongue languid on my skin and I arched my neck, allowing him more access. But, instead of continuing with his kisses, he stopped and breathed into my ear, "It'll be the best damn massage you'll ever experience Sookie," and then he gently bit my ear lobe with his teeth.

My knees gave out. Eric chuckled above me and scooped me up, stepping into the beautiful shower as he went.

Eric didn't disappoint. While the many shower heads caressed us with their constant soft pressure from the spray, he worked the tension out of my shoulders and the base of my neck. He gently relieved the many stubborn knots in the muscles along my shoulder blades and down my spine. I turned to face him after he was done and he gently placed his very multi-talented fingers on my hips. His face was flushed pink from the steam of the shower, and his eyes were dark. He looked very proud of himself, which he should have been. Boy, did I feel relaxed. I stared back at him feeling lazy and slightly stoned from the calm that had washed over me.

"There's one more spot I'd like to work the tension out of," he said very seriously but, I could see the glint of mischief in his eye. I just didn't put the two and two together.

"Eric, I'm about as relaxed and happy as I've ever been. There's nothing worked up in me left."

He stepped closer to me, and his hands slid down my arms, gently tickling as he went. I shivered.

"You sure?" His face held mock concern, and a small smile. I still didn't get it.

I nodded my head at him, too lethargic to answer. He bent his head down and kissed my shoulder, then my collarbone, then the little dip in the base of my neck, and gave it a lick for good measure. My tired body started to react, as my head lolled back, and goosebumps spread out along the spots where he had kissed me.

His fingers moved across my pelvis beneath my belly button and glided up over my ribs towards my breasts. I gasped at the contact, and the sensation it caused on my tender skin. I brought my head back up and stared into Eric's eyes. Bastard was turning me on. I shifted my legs involuntarily.

"Something wrong?" He asked all innocent like. If I had had the energy, I would have playfully slapped him on the wrist.

I didn't answer him, I just nodded my head. Eric took it as his invitation and bent down on his knees. He was still too tall, thanks to that deliciously long torso of his, but that didn't seem to deter him any. He hitched my leg up over his shoulder, and with one last look up at me - one of the most erotic things I'd ever seen - went to work "massaging" that one last spot. I threw my hand out to catch my balance on the shower wall, while my other hand rested on his head. I tried desperately to not let my one shaky leg give out on me the entire time.

Eric was really very good at relieving.... tension. He relieved mine twice.

-------

After all of the hot water in the entire borough of Brooklyn had run out, and I had felt so damn relaxed I was practically euphoric, Eric turned off the water and we stepped out of the glorious shower, that I was convinced had been sent down from heaven. We were squeaky clean and I could smell the scent of Eric's soaps all around me. I basked in it.

We were standing in contented silence, drying each other off with oversized light green towels when my traitor stomach decided to ruin the blissful moment and growl. I stared down at it in disbelief, after all, Eric was the one who only had gelato the entire day, I at least had breakfast, why was I so hungry?

"Oh man," I said rather annoyed, pushing my hands on my stomach as if that would make it shut up.

Eric laughed, "I'm starving too, come on, I'll make you some food."

Ten minutes later, I was in yet another one of Eric's oversize shirts with his mocasins dangling off my feet, as I sat at his kitchen counter watching him cook on his Viking stovetop.

The man could cook.

Seriously, I had died and gone to heaven.

Not to mention, his hips would swish every once in a while as he tossed the ingredients in his sauté pan, making his ass look even more delicious than usual in his low slung jeans. He decided to not put on a shirt. I was grateful.

I ignored the sting in the back of my mind that I knew was the inevitable; I just pushed it away.

Johnnie Walker had come in from his little siesta out on the terrace, where we found him sleeping on his back, his legs propped up in the air like an overturned table. He walked sleepily into the apartment, sniffing the air with his nose. He ignored us both as he continued to walk back to Eric's room where he promptly jumped up on the down comforter, curled up into a ball and fell asleep again. The smell of the food hadn't even brought him out of the bedroom yet.

"He always that tired?" I asked.

"Around dinner time? Yes. He doesn't like to eat until about 10, and before that he makes sure to get in a good four hour nap." Eric said as he added strips of cheese to the mushrooms and peppers he was sauteing in the pan. He decided on making us cheese steaks without the steak, since he had none. I loved mushrooms so I was not complaining in the least, even though I had never heard of a "cheese steak" before. Chicken fried steak? Yes. Cheese Steak? No.

-------

**Eric**

Sookie had never heard of a cheese steak before. That was... interesting and kind of sad. Poor girl was missing out. Then again, she insisted that a chicken fried steak was what I was really missing out on, and we laughed over the momentary culture clash.

Everything was fine. Calm and content.

Until we started eating. Actually, until _she_ started eating.

The sandwich wasn't the easiest thing to eat in the world, I'll admit. They're meant to be messy and filling, and even in this version - without the steak - I had chocked it full of mushrooms. She picked up her baguette, and tried to fit a bite into her mouth. She tried many different angles before deciding on a frontal approach. I watched as she took in a large chunk of it, happily. Not feeling self conscious at all about eating in front of me. Which was a huge turn on. A bit of cheese dripped down her chin and she quickly licked it up with her tongue. She then closed her eyes as she chewed, making little approving noises the entire time. _What was it with this woman and food?_

Some cheese had gotten onto her hand and she licked it. A stray mushroom fell on her plate and she picked it up and dropped it in her mouth, as if it were a grape falling off a vine. I didn't realize it until three minutes later, but my mouth had been hanging open the entire time I was watching her eat, my sandwich hanging in mid air, untouched.

I had never been more jealous of a piece of food in my entire life then when she went back in for a second bite of the baguette. Her mouth opened and her eyes closed and I literally groaned in my seat. I couldn't help it; my pants had gotten too tight all of a sudden.

I heard her giggle and looked over. I had been giving my lap a death glare. Seriously, my hormones around this woman just weren't playing fair.

"You're not eating," she said as she continued to smile at me. Thankfully I was seated around the bend of the counter and she couldn't see my current... condition.

"Oh," I said, "yah." I took a bite of my sandwich and forced myself to swallow it down. I had lost my appetite. For food at least. The only thing I was hungry for at that moment was Sookie's mouth. Her lips were shinny from the grease of the mushrooms, and her fingers were slightly messy from the sandwich that refused to stay together in her small hands.

I took one more bite, chewed it and swallowed hard. I was done with dinner. I wanted desert.

I got up slowly from my chair; Sookie was still occupied with her sandwich, and didn't notice my quiet movements. _God, did she have to chew with her eyes closed like that? And those little moans... It's just a sandwich! _I stood behind her and ghosted my hands over her shoulders. She jumped. I laughed.

She immediately leaned back into me, no hesitation. I liked that. We were comfortable around each other. I loved how comfortable we were. I dropped my head into her still damp hair and kissed it. She put her sandwich down and pushed the plate to the side, as I moved my mouth down along the line of her neck, leaving kisses along the tender skin. She was still warm from the shower, making her skin feel extra soft.

I moved my hands up and under her shirt, placing them on the soft skin of her hips and moved her into the counter as I leaned into her. She put her hands on granite and giggled softly at my movements.

_Alright, enough of this backward business._ I wanted to see her face, and kiss that damn beautiful mouth of hers. I twisted her around on the stool faster than she could react and she gave a little squeak at the sudden change of direction. I smirked down at her. I loved her little noises.

_Time to hear more of them_, I thought.

I tipped my head down and kissed her. Pushing her back into the counter gently, and forcing her hips towards me. I dragged my tongue across her bottom lip and happily moaned as she opened her mouth to me. She was definitely on the same page as me, since the next second she brought her arms up and wrapped them around my neck, forcing my face closer to hers. She even tilted her head further to the side, attacking my mouth forcefully with her own tongue.

Her breath was hot and she tasted amazing. I pulled back for air.

"Mmm... you taste good."

"You're a good cook," she said with a small smile.

Her legs were spread on the stool and my hips were already in between them at that point. Sookie apparently wanted desert too, because she brought her legs up and wrapped them around my waste the next second; digging her heels into the backs of my thighs, as she pressed herself against me.

I groaned. She was radiating heat. This woman was going to kill me. I scooped her up off the stool. The bar section of the counter just simply wouldn't do. I moved us around to the inside of the kitchen and the lower counter, splaying her out along the black granite. The copper specks in the surface brought out the color of her lightly tanned skin, and the slight strawberry tones in her blonde hair, as it flowed out along the counter.

She lifted up a hand and placed it on my cheek, her eyes silently telling more than words ever could. For a moment I allowed myself to get lost in them. Then my brain switched over to a more primal channel and I smirked down at her. I had shown her what it was like to make love on soft sheets. I gave her a massage, and worked out her most sensitive spots in my shower. Now it was time to show her exactly how amazing and utilitarian the edge of a countertop could be.

I reached in my back pocket and pulled out a condom. Sookie quirked her eyebrow at me. "Thought you were gonna get lucky for a second time today?"

I smiled down at her, "of course," and ripped the plastic wrapper with my teeth. Her eyes flashed with lust. _Damn, I loved this woman_.

She surprised me though; she pushed herself up off the counter top and took the wrapper from me, removing the condom herself. She shot me a look, and then brought her fingers towards the tops of my jeans. She unbuttoned them and then slid them down to my thighs, giving my ass a squeeze as she went. I laughed slightly, she really did love my ass. That was fine by me.

She looked back up at me and held my gaze, blindly putting the condom on me. I was impressed. I felt her gentle fingers rolling it down over my already aching cock. When she came to the base she grasped it fully in her small hands and my head flew back. Her hands were warm and I could feel the warmth even through the latex, as she gave me a few good firm strokes.

She brought a hand up and wrapped it around my neck, pulling me down to her mouth to kiss me, still stroking the entire time. I was going to lose it soon if she didn't stop being so damn sexy. Her tongue became more demanding and she matched her movements with her hand.

This lasted for about two minutes before I couldn't stand it anymore and pulled away. She was teasing and working me and it was fucking divine, but I wanted to be inside her.

"My turn," I said.

I lifted her back onto the counter, bringing one of her legs up from its dangling position at my side and placed the ball of her foot on the edge of the granite. She willing let me, and I repeated this with her other leg until she was balancing on her hands in front of me, giving me a very quizzical stare.

"Trust me," I told her, and brought her knees closer to me, preparing my stance.

I gently pushed into her. She was still so tight, but wet and ready. It felt amazing. She let her head fall back, and I braced my hands on her hips. Sookie's legs were already starting to shake slightly, I prayed she held on. I could give her the ride of her life, if she only held on.

I started to thrust into her and her reaction was instantaneous.

"My god! What the..." she couldn't even finish her question before her head fell back.

"It's all about angles Sookie," I said and pushed into her again, going deeper this time. Trying to find what I was looking for.

A few minutes later, I found it. She screamed out in surprise, and I smiled. _Jackpot._

"Welcome to your G spot," I said, with more husk in my voice than intended. It was hard to stay sane with her so tight and hot around me. I leaned over and kissed one of her breasts. Her face was flushed and there was a sheen of sweat all over her body. She looked as if she were glowing. I could see her stomach muscles contorting, and watched as her arms shook underneath her.

"Try and rest on your elbows," I whispered into her skin, and she carefully lowered down a few inches more. This sent me deeper, into her and she certainly let me know. I could feel her starting to clamp down around me, and it just drove me further.

"Eric!" She gasped. "Right... ther..." she couldn't even form the sentence, before closing her eyes and letting her head fall back again. I was proud of myself.

"Look at me Sookie," I said as gently as possible, though I might have sounded like a wild animal at that point. I certainly felt like one. She answered my request and looked up. Our eyes locked. I hitched her hips up further, her legs positively vibrating on either side of me. I could see the beads of sweat on her forehead. She was so close.

It only took three more thrusts. I pulled out completely and shoved back in. I was glad I had grasped onto her hips because her legs gave out on the second thrust, and I had to catch them. I slung them over my forearms, and pulled out once more.

"Come for me Sookie," and I plunged back into her, hitting that certain spot I had worked so hard to find. She screamed out my name, and then her elbows gave out. She flopped onto the counter, as I felt her walls clamp down around me and her juices flow over me. I was driven over the edge by it. I let go of everything and just allowed myself to burst into a thousand tiny pieces, with Sookie under me.

I tried not to fall over on top of her. I don't know how successful I was, but somehow I ended up lying on her beautiful moist body; my face resting on her sternum as we rocked our bodies together gently, riding out the high.

We were both panting. I couldn't get oxygen in my lungs fast enough it seemed. Sookie lifted a shaky arm up and brought it too my hair. Running her fingers through it gently. I closed my eyes at the affectionate sensation.

I wanted to return the gesture and pulled her up towards me, embracing her with all the energy I had left, and she hugged me back. There we sat; our sweaty bodies clinging to each other as we slowly steadied our breathing, feeling each others heartbeats gradually return to normal. I never wanted to move.

A few minutes later, I spoke into her hair, "I think we need another shower."

She laughed weakly and I felt her head nod against my chest. I picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. Johnnie Walker was in the hallway looking skeptical about what all the noise was. I pointed back to the bedroom and he turned around and walked back in.

I felt bad for a second, poor boy was probably hungry. I'd give him extra chow later.

It was in the shower that we heard it.

Sookie's phone was ringing from somewhere within the walls of the apartment. Johnnie even barked slightly at the noise. I looked down at her, we were still embracing, not moving much, just standing under the spray. She looked nervous, and I assumed my eyes mirrored her concern. I knew it would be normal for Amelia or Tray or someone to call, just to get an update on us, but something in her eyes made me paranoid. It was that damn encroachment of time again. Why didn't it just leave us alone?

I was beginning to really hate it.

I turned off the spray and stepped out to get Sookie a towel. After we were wrapped up in my extra large green towels, we walked back out to the living room and Sookie went to find where we had thrown her purse after coming in earlier that afternoon. Looking back, it had seemed so long ago.

It was by the front door, scattered on the floor. She picked up the phone and stared at the illuminated front before flipping open the receiver.

"Amelia?" she asked hesitantly.

I sat and watched, not breathing as she listened to the muffled high pitched voice on the other end. It sounded upset. I hoped I was only being paranoid.

Sookie leaned back on the front door and slid down to a seated position, utter defeat and pain in her face. I shot up off the sofa faster than a damn bottle rocket.

She led up a finger to me as I couched down next to her, putting my hands on her knees. She wasn't being dismissive, she was just listening still. I cursed silently as I couldn't make out what Amelia was saying on the other end of the phone.

Sookie was nodding absentmindedly into the receiver, every once in a while adding an "okay" or an "of course" to the conversation.

I was jumping out of my skin within minutes.

Then the other shoe dropped. "I'll be down in a few minutes," she said and I could literally feel the blood leaving my face.

"She's outside?" I asked, but my throat was dry and my voice came out cracked and small. Sookie nodded in response. There were tears in her eyes.

"What happened Sookie?" I asked as reassuringly as possible under the circumstances, since I could have really used some fucking reassurance of my own right then.

"Amelia's father had a heart attack..." she said, looking off towards the kitchen, her eyes glazing over a bit.

"Is he...?" I was petrified to ask.

"He died." Her voice was flat; the sound of it scared the crap out of me.

"Sookie," I said, and pulled her to me. We sat there on the cold floor of my apartment, as I rocked her in my arms. Apparently Amelia was waiting downstairs; we couldn't sit like this for long. I hated that fact.

A few minutes passed and Sookie started to shake in my arms. I held her tighter, the distant tick of my kitchen clock bugging the hell out of me in that moment. Like I needed to be reminded.

"I don't want to leave," she finally spoke and I heard her voice crack with emotion. My eyes clamped shut at her words.

"I don't want you to leave either."

A sob tore through her chest, "I have to." I squeezed her tighter, my stomach dropping. There was a small voice at the back of my head that kept on saying _no, no, no, no, no you can't leave_.... I wished I could listen to it.

Another minute passed, and guilt started to creep into my conscience. We were on borrowed time now. My suspicion was proved right a second later. The phone rang. It was Tray this time. I took the call.

"Tray, she'll be down in a few," I said without even waiting for him to speak. I didn't want to be rude. I tried to sound as empathetic as I could. I hoped I had pulled it off. Tray answered gruffly, I could hear Amelia crying next to him.

My God, could this night get more depressing?

Five minutes later, Sookie and I had peeled ourselves up off the floor. She had donned yet another one of my shirts, and had wrapped the belt around it, giving it the appearance of a dress. The spunk from this morning was gone. Replaced with somber steps and a sullen face.

I watched as she patted Johnnie Walker on the head, and then I helped her pick up the contents of her purse.

"I'll come with you." I said with as much conviction as possible. She looked up at me from replacing her hotel key in her purse with utter relief in her eyes. I melted at the sight of them. "Okay? I'll come with you. I'll book a flight right now."

I reached for my phone, it was lying on the side table by the couch. The second I grabbed it, it buzzed in my hand. I flipped it open.

"Pam?"

"Yes. Who else calls you?" She said.

"What do you want?" I didn't mean to sound so clipped but I was fucking stressed.

"I want you to get the fuck down here right now." My eyes widened.

"You're downstairs?"

"Yes. I offered to drive them to the airport."

"How..." I started to ask, but she answered my question before I could even voice it.

"You weren't picking up your phones for hours, Amelia called me." Pam said, and she sounded rather peeved at that fact.

Shit, had we really not heard the phones? I rubbed my hands over my face.

"I'm coming down. Please tell Amelia I'm sorry for the... delay," and I snapped the phone closed. I looked over at Sookie; she was staring at the door, and absentmindedly petting Johnnie Walker's head. Dogs always seem to have a sixth sense when you're upset. He was clearly trying to comfort her as he pressed his large body against Sookie's side.

"Is it strange to say that I don't want to go out there? It means... its over."

"No!" I almost yelled. Nothing was over. No.

"Our time, for now, it's over." She said again, and it sounded as if she were convincing herself of that fact.

A knock came at the door the next second. All three of us jumped. I moved in front of Sookie and Johnnie to open it.

"Eric, get the fuck downstairs!" Pam sounded like my mother. Her face was furious, and she had good reason. I'm sure to them it looked like we were children hiding up in attic, refusing to come down for super. Just multiply that by a hundred.

Pam took Sookie's arm and I almost growled as she draped her own arm over her shoulder, and walked down the stairs with her. Sookie stayed quiet. I followed behind her, feeling like a hundred pound weight was on my chest.

Outside sat Pam's Mercedes, idling by the curb. Tray and Amelia were in the back seat, and Pam would be driving. That left one seat for Sookie, and no room for me.

I wouldn't fit.

"I'll take Sookie in my car," I said as a last ditch effort to stay close to her, the constriction in my chest becoming more prominent each second.

"No Eric," Pam said, again stepping in and stomping on words. "Amelia needs her friend right now. Surely you can understand that?"

Fucking Pam, bitch was right.

"Sookie," I said, taking her hand in mine, she looked back at me and I could tell she was holding back tears. I took her phone out of her little purse and punched my number into it. "So you have it." I then placed the phone back into her purse, and embraced her in my already aching arms. Pam got in the driver's side.

I released Sookie from the hug and she walked to the back of the car to embrace Amelia, who was now standing on the sidewalk. The poor girl bawled into Sookie's shoulder. More guilt stabbed me. I couldn't make a scene. Not right now. That poor girl had just lost her father, and from what I knew Sookie was like a sister to her. Right now was not the time.

Fucking _time_...

Sookie moved to the passenger's side and I held the door for her. Hugging her close again, and kissing her firmly on the lips. She moaned back into me, but it was a melancholy sound. The kiss felt finite. I hated that.

"I'll be following in my car," I told her, and she got in with a small smile on her lips. I tried to hold onto that image as I watched Pam's car pull around to wait for me to get in line behind them.

As I got in my car I felt my fucking heart sink. _Not again,_ I thought.

I was able to keep up with them until we got stuck in traffic on the BQE. Pam took a quick exit and I tried to follow but was blocked by another car. I had to take the long way to the airport, and by the time I got onto the turnpike I was stuck behind the aftermath of an accident. The traffic was backed up for miles it felt like. A small part of me was happy that Pam had taken a detour, avoiding this mess, but another part of me screamed. I needed to be near Sookie again. I wanted to buy a seat on the plane and go with her. Be next to her the entire time, and yet there I was. Stuck in a fucking parking lot on the New Jersey Turnpike. _Kill. Me. Now._

30 minutes and about 1 mile later, I sat defeated in the sea of idling cars and exhaust fumes. Pam had texted me saying that they had gotten to the airport fine and that everyone had been checked in. Great. Fuck. Shit.

The planes coming and going from the Newark International Airport fly over the turnpike all the time. I found myself watching each one take off from my stationary spot on the congested highway. Wondering which Sookie was on, or if she was even on one of them yet. I was aching to be close to her again.

My phone buzzed next to me on the seat, a new number I hadn't programed yet popped up. I flipped it open. "Sookie?"

"We're on the plane," she said and her voice sounded raspy. Like she had been crying. My hand gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. I wasn't there to comfort her, and I wanted to be.

"I'm stuck in traffic. Fuck.. I'm so sorry Sookie."

She didn't respond for a good moment or two, but then said, "I love you Eric."

My head dropped, happy to hear the words again. "I love you too."

"Thank you for catching me that night," she said. My chest constricted again.

"Thanks for pretending to be my bartender. It was the best damn thing that's ever happened to me."

I heard her laugh slightly on the other end of the phone, but it was somber and short. Not the happy sound of her giggles from earlier in the day.

"I have to get off now, the plane's taxiing."

"Call me when you land."

"I will."

The phone clicked off and I threw it on the passenger side seat, trying to hold in the dry sob that was threatening to leave my throat. Instead I punched the steering wheel. I'm sure the people in the cars around me were probably fucking nervous of being next to a manically depressed blond haired man in a red corvette. I didn't give a shit.

I didn't sleep that night. I waited for her to call.

She did, at 1AM. I had been out walking Johnnie Walker and didn't feel it buzzing in my pants pocket. I supposed I was too preoccupied thinking about her, and felt like an utter idiot for missing her call. By the time I realized and called her back it was around 1:45 AM and I'm sure she was sleeping. After leaving a brief voicemail, reaffirming my love for her once again, I closed the phone and sat in my large empty apartment. Johnnie was sleeping on the couch next to me, and despite his presence I had never felt more alone.

------------

A/N: I have nothing to say... That's a first.

till next time.

p.s. They didn't hear the phones the first time around because, 1) Eric's was on vibrate. 2) They were making noise.... ehem. The second shower they were quiet, and finally heard the ring. Johnnie was also back inside, hence his bark.


	21. Chapter 21: Pam

A/N: And now for something completely different.

A word or two, from Pam.

-------------------

**Pam**

Do not think I didn't know what was going on between Eric and Sookie. I think everyone knew what was happening between them, even before they did. Hell, I knew that first night, he'd fallen head over heels gaga for her the second she'd crashed landed into his chest at the bar.

How'd I know? Two things.

First off, he fired my barback on the spot. Which really wasn't something I was too happy about. The fucker was an idiot, but he was good at heavy lifting, and the ladies loved to watch him do it. If I didn't love Eric like a brother I would have ripped him a new one for pulling something like that, trying to impress a girl.

The second thing; he couldn't stop staring at her. Even after she left, his eyes would flit back and forth between the spot she had been standing in front of him, and the door that she had made her exit through.

For the rest of the night he walked around in a daze. Some, less perceptive person would have mistake his mind-fog for simple horn dog lust. A man like Eric, with a physique like his, paired with a face that had perfected the hurt-puppy-I'm-damaged-console-me look, would no doubt have his pick of any woman he wanted. And he did. He just didn't bother with any of them.

They all threw themselves at him, and he shrugged them off.

Sookie had literally been thrown into him, and he couldn't shake her. He could barely let her go. I'd find it sweet, if I hadn't been so disgusted by how star-crossed they seemed to be.

When she showed up the next day, with the saddest excuse to return to the bar I ever did hear, it was obvious she had it bad too. Again, I was disgusted by how romantic it all seemed. I was not a romantic. I was a realist. These kinds of pre-destined meetings did not occur in real life.

Yet, there she was, looking expectant and on the verge of embarrassment for letting herself get so worked up. It seemed she had even fancied herself up for him. Her hair was in a series of soft waves, that I could very much appreciate. But her nerves were showing and I read the feelings on her face like a book.

Do not be mistaken in thinking that women didn't return to the bar multiple times after having seen Eric here the night before. Seeing a girl with her hopes worked up over Eric was not a first for me. But she didn't push for information, or make up some bullshit story in order to get Eric's number out of me. She simply retrieved her friend's coat, and together they all left. She looked like a wounded dog when she did, but still, something kicked my butt out the door to go and follow her. There was something different about Sookie Stackhouse. Eric had noticed it right away, and right then, I was beginning to as well.

The fact that she seemed to know what I originally thought of her was also slightly unnerving. When she blurted out where Eric's rather secretive and somewhat exclusive bar was, it was settled. Something was special about her, and maybe pre-destined wasn't such a bad word to describe it.

Normally, I took it upon myself to weed out the many Randoms and Strays that wanted to weave their way into Eric's arms, and his bed. I would also take it upon myself to make sure that the promising ones actually did find their way to his bar. They'd have to do the rest of the work. I was never going to make it easy for anyone to get to Eric. He had suffered enough and liked to keep his heart closed off to most people. It was not my place to tell him how to live his life, but I'd certainly help him whenever I could. Getting him laid, or finding a nice girl for him, fell into that category.

The problem with letting the 'good ones' through was that there never were any. I had never realized how many skanks actually roamed the streets of New York City until I watched hordes of them throw themselves at Eric's feet. It was quite sickening. Though I did benefit from time to time with a free-spirit who'd rather come home with me, than settle for a night of lagging behind Eric's boots being ignored.

Some of these Straddlers actually thought that getting into bed with me, meant they'd get into bed with Eric, or worse with the two of us. Eric and I had only allowed ourselves to try that once. It was on a very drunk, very dark night a year after the fire. Eric and I were not a romantic pairing. We were not "friend with benefits," we were merely drunk and frisky.

The night did not end well. The girl we had shared, I do believe, had fun but for us, that experience had successfully ended our manage et trios trysts for good. I was known for being open and adventurous, but I preferred to focus my attentions on one participant. Besides, Eric was clearly a beautiful man, but I tended to like a sexual partner with breasts, not granite pecks - even though they were impressive. The boy obviously worked out.

But I digress.

Sookie was special, I had deemed it so. Which is something that rarely ever let happen.

After sending her off towards Eric's bar, I was unaware of what else had happened with her that night. I had no reason to get in touch with Eric, until the fire started in the kitchens. I had only called him earlier in the evening - prior to seeing the smoke starting to filter through my office door - to ask for a new barback. He owed me after all.

When I called him again, it was only to inform him of the fire at my bar on Avenue B. If he and Sookie had made any headway, I certainly didn't want to interrupt. Believe me, it was the last call I ever wanted to make that night, but he would have had my head on a platter if I hadn't told him. Eric was fiercely loyal to those he cared for and loved. I was included on that rather small list, and knew that if he'd read in the papers next day that the bar had burnt down, without me telling him first, heads would have most certainly rolled.

I expected him to show up that night on edge and flustered. I expected him to be quiet and probably a little snappy. He would most certainly attempt to talk to every firefighter he could get his hands on, to make sure that every single corner of the building had been checked. I knew this, and I expected it. You can't stop a 6 foot and then some man of doing anything really, if he didn't want to be stopped.

What I didn't expect was to see Sookie with him, holding his hand. The two of them could not stop touching. Seeing the way she regarded him as well, with caution and concern only cemented my musings further. Those two were falling for each other. How long had it been? A mater of hours. Good lord. She clearly hadn't wasted anytime in finding him, and in a small way, I was glad.

I was busy most of that night, and was only able to observe them from afar. One of the few instances I got to watch was rather pecular. Sookie had been standing by the burning building with her eyes closed, and her face set with fierce concentration, before she leaned in to whisper something into Eric's ear. He still had not let go of her hand. The entire time, they never broke bodily contact.

The reaction on his face at her words was serious and almost paralyzed with fear. He yelled for a firefighter to check the third floor again, and after a series of difficult and well executed maneuvers by the fireman, a woman was extracted from the building. She was found exactly where Eric had informed the men she'd be. The reason she was not found sooner was because she had been asleep, and was missed during the previous sweeps of the building.

Sookie had known she was there.

My curiosity only grew as the night went on. I watched as she fell asleep against Eric's chest, while he stood in between her legs, his arms protectively draped around her waist. He was treating Sookie with reverence and love. Even then.

I was sure it was only the excessive smoke that my eyes has been exposed to, but while I watched them hold each other on the hood of an old car across the street from the scene of the fire, I had felt tears on my cheeks. Eric had lost someone in a fire much like the one we were experiencing that night. I could see the pain in his face as he stared up at the smoldering building, no doubt having flashbacks to an event much more tragic. The difference? This time Sookie was in his arms. He couldn't bring himself to let her go, and after seeing their interactions - how god damned precious and real they were - I'd be damned if I ever had to be the person to make him.

So when I got the call from Amelia the next day, telling me that her father had died and neither Sookie nor Eric were picking up their phones, I wanted to punch something. Eric and Sookie were ignoring reality, and I had to be the big bad wolf and blow their love shack down. Seriously, why did I always have to be the bitchy responsible one? Why couldn't l just be the bitch? It was so much easier.

Amelia, of course was in hysterics. I couldn't blame her, nor did I. In fact, I threw myself into making arrangements for them out of a need to keep her calm. Bumping their flight times up and making sure there was a car to pick them up at the airport in New Orleans - where the body was being taken. Hell, I even called in a favor from an acquaintance of mine, Lafayette, who ran a swank hotel down in the French Quarter. Within a half an hour of Amelia's first call - she had called three times - I had booked them flights, taxis and rooms. I felt like a fucking concierge.

In truth, I was stalling. I didn't want to call Eric. I didn't want to interrupt his time with Sookie. His happiness was important to me. The two of us had been vagabonds and gypsies for so long. We had taken care of each other through thick n' thin. We were the closest thing each other had to family. I had seen Eric that morning beaming with a devious I-just-got-some grin when he and Sookie walked into Bob's hotel. He had found love again, and even though she lived in an entirely different part of the country, they had a day of fun in front of them; I was not going to be the one to ruin it.

Except, I had to be. Wasn't that just perfect?

_Shit. Fuck. Cocksucker.... la la la. God Dammit, someone paralyze me so I don't have to do this. Seriously... someone, anyone. _

My internal monologue lasted the entire drive to Eric's apartment. Tray, Amelia and Random were in the back seat. There was only one more spot for Sookie up front. Eric was not going to be happy. I had to take away his girl, and I had to rub it in his face by not having room in my small car to drive him with her to the airport. Karma was laying it on thick today. What the hell had I done to deserve this?

What made things worse was that Amelia hadn't stopped crying or thanking me the entire drive there. Tray, thank god, was staying quiet. I barely noticed his presence in the car outside of an occasional consoling "shhh" he'd whisper into Amelia's hair. The poor girl was destroyed. I didn't like seeing such raw grief up close. It reminded me too much of seeing the aftermath of Eric loosing Liz. On top of my own grief for her, watching Eric come apart at the seems proved to be the most depressing thing I had ever experienced. It wasn't a walk in the park for him either.

And yet here I was again. Seeing first hand, this poor girl descending into a pool of suffering I'm sure she wouldn't emerge from for some time. I couldn't even dream of blaming her.

I parked the car and cursed.

I walked up the stoop to the front door and cursed.

I ascended the stairs inside and cursed.

I knocked on the door to Eric's apartment and I fucking cursed.

I did not want to do this, but Amelia was crying in the car downstairs, and Sookie and Co. had a plane to catch. I'd play my part and get her on that plane. Eric would hate me, but I'd make it up to him later. As long as he let me.

I flipped open my phone and punched in his number. On the first ring he picked up. It was about time.

I told him while standing out in the hallway that we were downstairs and to please come out of his hidey hole with Sookie and join us. Playtime was over.

I hung up. I waited. I listened. They were right inside the door, speaking in desperate and tear filled tones. I didn't know if I should gag or check my mascara for runs. The emotion of the day was entering the territory of overwhelming. I wasn't too happy about it. I snapped.

I knocked on the door, harsh and sharp and I cursed.

Eric opened it and I yelled. He gave me a look of pure disgust. Again, I'd try to make it up to him later. Amelia was grieving; he had to understand that she needed her best friend. I told him this after he offered - rather desperately - to drive Sookie in his car.

The last time I let that happen, they had been lost to the world for hours on end. I wasn't going to let history repeat itself.

Once downstairs I watched their interactions again. The two of them it seemed, were always in there own bubble unto themselves. I outside world melted away when they were in each others presence. It was almost sickening.

I don't have much modesty, but in that moment, even I had to look away as they parted for an undisclosed amount of time.

I mean, he gave her his fucking phone number and I _had_ to look away from them. The moment felt to intimate to be witnessed. It was mind boggling to me. They had known each other for less than two days. Their emotions weren't feigned, or contrived. It was painful how true they were.

Dammit Amelia, your father couldn't have laid off on the steak?

The second I thought that, I regretted it. No wonder Karma was all over my ass today. I had to keep my filter in check. God forbid I actually say something that idiotic and insensitive in front of her. Amelia's grief came first today. I'd deal with Eric's tomorrow.

-------

True to my word, the next morning I was standing in front of Eric's apartment door, hot coffee in hand, and a happy flask in my purse, whiskey warmed and at the ready. I had no idea what would greet me on the other side of that door, but I had to be prepared. I'm sure Eric's wrath was going to be pointed at me, I should be the first person to see him, have him get some of it out, before he descends on the rest of the population of New York City.

No one answered. I knocked again.

Still, no answer.

I sighed heavily, knowing that this was probably how it was going to be, and dug through my purse for my set of keys. I let myself in and put the coffees down on the kitchen counter.

Johnnie was scratching at the door of the terrace, obviously needing to relieve himself. I let him out and he ran over to the corner of the deck, lifted up his leg and pissed out into the air. I wondered idly for a moment who's unfortunate backyard was beneath Eric's terrace, before turning to walk down the back hallway towards Eric's bedroom.

When I opened the door however, he wasn't there. The sheets to the bed had been torn off, and piled in a corner. The pillows had been strewn across the floor. The only thing left on the bed was his blue Dolce dress shirt. Sookie had worn it the other day. Still, the neatly laid out shirt did not help explain where Eric was. I stepped back out of the room and checked the second bedroom that was never used next door.

Bingo.

There in the middle of the large king sized bed lay Eric, curled up into a ball, with the sheets wrapped around him tightly, his face buried into one of the pillows. He hadn't heard me enter, nor did he respond when I knocked on the frame of the door.

Great, I had a grown wallowing man on my hands. I sighed and walked forward, shaking his shoulders to alert him to consciousness.

He grunted under my touch and batted at my hands with his arms. Oh hell no. I was fine with allowing him to wallow, and he could do that all he wanted after a shower and getting some food into his stomach, but I was not going to let him lie in his spare bedroom and mope. That's just not how I roll.

"Get. Up." I commanded, and he shook his head, burying it further into the pillow.

"Why are you in here anyway?" I asked.

He mumbled something into the mattress that I couldn't make out so I asked again.

"What are you doing in here!?"

"This is Sookie's room," he said, lifting his head slightly.

Okay then. Odd.

"Sookie gave me her info at the airport. Come into the kitchen, I have a few things to discuss with you. I brought coffee... and a flask in case you were looking for something stronger." At this, I clapped my hands above his head obnoxiously. "Come on, get up!" I said, as if he were a dog.

Eric reluctantly shifted and started to drag himself out of the bed. I was proud of him.

"Good boy. I'll be in the kitchen."

Twenty minutes later, Eric had had a cup of coffee and a few soft boiled eggs that I had made for him. Eggs were the only thing that I could cook. They were impossible to mess up, and if I over boiled, they were simply hard boiled. No harm done.

I knew the next few days were going to be hard for Eric. I could see in his eyes, he was treating this loss of Sookie much like he had treated the loss of Liz. I wanted to reprimand him slightly for that. Sookie hadn't died, she merely went back to her home. There were still endless possibilities for them to be together. Moping this much seemed like an insult to Liz's memory. I held back telling him this though. It had taken him years to open up to another person. I was happy he had. I'd allow him a little self pity for these first few hours.

"What did you want to tell me about Sookie," he finally said ten minutes later.

"Oh, I wanted to give you her address and home phone in Louisiana. She had written it down for me at the airport."

Eric visibly perked up at this. His sad eyes brightened for a moment as I extracted the paper from my purse and handed it to him. He took it into his hands as if it were a newborn baby.

"I missed her call last night," he said.

"She called?" I asked.

"Yeah. I was out walking Johnnie," he said, absentmindedly looking around the kitchen for him, "I didn't feel my phone go off in my pocket."

"When did you finally get to sleep last night?"

"About and hour before you found me," he said, looking slightly embarrassed, or maybe just pissed at me. I couldn't tell.

"Oh Jesus." I put down my cup of coffee before I threw it at him. There was going to be no living with him while she was gone. Thank god I had booked him on a flight down there next week.

I would have done it sooner but Amelia had taken me aside at the airport and expressed a rather strange urge to have Sookie to herself for the next few days. She explained after moving in with Sookie how she had become the closest thing to family she'd ever had. Amelia had just recently reconciled with her father after years of a strained relationship apparently. Hence her added grief. She felt robbed of the quality time with her father she had always wanted and craved. And now she would never have it.

"I don't want to say this in front of Sookie, but do you understand?" Amelia said, pleading with me.

"I think I do," I said hesitantly, wishing Tray would come out of nowhere and scoop her up again. Amelia was asking a lot of me, considering I was basically a stranger to her. My threshold for dealing with her was wearing thin.

"I just," she started and then rubbed her nose, "I don't know what happened in the past few days with her and Eric, but I just need her right now. If he shows up, she'll be consumed with her new feelings for him, and even though I'm thrilled that they found each other, I just... I need some family right now. To myself." She was talking in a rushed and wobbly voice, and she sounded as if she was going to break down again any second. I couldn't help but simply nod at her. Agreeing with the distraught was the best way to keep them from becoming more distraught. It was like dealing with a drunk person; never argue. I was stuck in a very peculiar corner. Fuck.

The problem was, how do I tell Eric this?

_No Eric, you can't go down there today because Amelia - Sookie's slightly unhinged by grief best friend - wants her all to herself for the next few days while she grieves and plans the funeral. You can respect that right? _

Like hell he would.

_Bite the bullet bitch_, I told myself. Just do it, like Nike.

"Eric," I said, "I booked you a flight down to Louisiana for this Tuesday." I paired my pseudo-happy statement with the most awkward smile I think I ever did give.

"Tuesday?" He said looking confused. I didn't blame him.

"It's the earliest I could get a flight," I lied.

"Pam, what the fuck aren't you telling me?" Johnnie, who had lifted his head up from eating his breakfast, rested his head on the counter next to Eric right then. His big brown puppy eyes staring me down as if I had denied him my table scraps.

There they stood. The two of them, a set of wounded dogs, begging me for an explanation. But I was done being the responsible one.

"Call Sookie," I said feeling defeated. "See what she says. If she wants you down there sooner, go for it. Fuck Amelia," I finished, and got up off the stool by the counter to leave.

"What? Why fuck Amelia?" He asked, following me to the door.

"She told me to keep you here for a few extra days. She knows that you and Sookie are goo goo for each other, but she wanted Sookie to herself for the next couple of days. I didn't know what to say, so I agreed, but it really wasn't my call to make. You wanna go down there, go. I'm done with being the middle man."

I pulled open the door, but before I walked through, I turned to say one last thing, " I'm on your side Eric. The past two days you've been happier than I've seen you in four years. Today, I come here and it took you an hour to even speak." I stepped over the threshold, and moved to the close the door behind me. "Go get her," I said with my back to him and shut the door.

------------

**Eric**

Well shit. Amelia was grieving, needed her friend, and had specifically told Pam to keep me away from Sookie during the next few days. How does one deal with that? I of course wouldn't want to disrespect Amelia's wishes. Especially since she was hurting so badly, but Sookie was her own person. Independent. Did the wishes of one grief stricken girl really have any leverage over who Sookie did or didn't spend time with?

I groaned outwardly in frustration.

I missed her. Bad. It had been less than 16 hours and I could barely breathe with the ache that had been left in my chest. I wondered if I was going into some delayed version of post traumatic stress. One that had lain dormant for four years inside me, and was now rearing its ugly head after having to say goodbye to another woman I loved. Of course Sookie was fine, healthy and safe, but the feeling of loss was the same. My brain wasn't operating on all six cylinders yet. Basic desires were all that was getting through.

I didn't want to let my feelings about Amelia keeping Sookie from me fester for too long. She did have a good reason. Probably the only good reason, but surely phone calls weren't off limits?

I picked up my cellphone from the countertop and pushed 'send.' Sookie had been the last person to call, so her number would be the first one on the call list.

I held my breath while it connected, not wanting to make any extra noise. I have no idea why, but it felt right at the time.

It rang three times, and a sullen voice picked up right before the fourth ring. "Hello?" she asked, and sounded so tired I instantly felt bad for rousing her.

"Sookie, I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"Eric!" She practically yelled into the phone. Her voice having dramatically changed from sullen to excited within seconds.

I chucked at her enthusiasm, it made me feel whole again. "Yeah, it's me. Didn't you check the ID?"

"I was too tired too look," she rushed out before saying, "Eric I really miss you."

"You have no idea," I responded.

"What are we gonna do?" She asked, sounding completely lost.

"I'm not going to think too far ahead at the moment. All I know is I want to come down there as soon as possible. If that's alright?"

"Are you kidding? Of course it is!" She said, and I could almost hear her jump up and down at the words. But her excitement didn't last long, she then added, "oh wait, did Pam tell you what Amelia said?"

"Yeah, how did you know? Pam said she took her aside at the airport."

"I can read minds Eric," she responded with a matter of fact tone. I felt like an idiot for forgetting.

"Right," I said, shaking my head, while rubbing my face. I had to wake up and get my brain working again. "So, where does this leave us?"

"Screwed," she said.

"Fuck," I cursed into the phone and then added a "sorry," very quickly, realizing my mistake, due to my lack of brain filter in the mornings.

"Don't be, I agree. But, I also don't want to cause Amelia any more grief or stress. The wake is tomorrow, and the funeral is the day after. She's going to be needing a support system right now." Sookie explained, but it sounded as if it was more for her benefit than for me. As if she were trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing.

"I wouldn't monopolize your time," I urged to her.

"I would monopolize yours," she said sounding defeated. "I would be distracted Eric, Amelia is right."

"I'm a distraction?"

"No!" she answered. The stress evident in her voice. I hadn't meant for her to take me seriously, I was trying to lighten the mood.

"Sorry," I told her. "Bad joke."

"I love you Eric, know that."

"I do. I love you too, and it feels fucking great to say it." Screw the brain filter.

Sookie laughed lightly into the phone. "Let me console Amelia for a day or two, make sure things run smoothly with the funeral," she said.

I agreed to her request and after another round of 'I love yous' and feeling slightly more upbeat than I had before talking with her, I ended the call. Sookie had taken it upon herself to plan all of the arrangements for the funeral. She was going to be busy, and I wanted to stay true to my word of not monopolizing her time.

By the time the sun went down that evening, I wanted to fuck 'my word' and send it to meet its maker.

I felt like I was going insane without her. It unnerved me.

I sat on my sofa and tried to focus on the last places Sookie had touched me. Wanting to see if I could still remember exactly how her touch felt. Johnnie kept on giving me strange looks, and I admit, I was even creeping myself out, so I stopped. Of course, walking through the apartment only made me relive the last day Sookie had spent there. Each memory revealing itself in perfect detail. The countertop in the kitchen I held a new reverence for, and the shower in the bathroom was almost painful to spend time in without her.

I was lovesick, and I was alone. Again. I hated it.

After a restless night. One in which I tossed and turned, trying to find Sookie's scent on the sheets of her bed in my spare bedroom, I woke to the cold wet nose of Johnnie poking me in the arm. I had neglected him the entire day previous, so I reluctantly rolled out of bed to tend to him; not wanting him to feel unloved.

The day passed slowly, with painstaking amounts of time drifting by. None of the minutes or hours held the promise of her in them, and so all of them were enemies to me. I cursed every clock I saw. God forbid I actually interacted with any human beings. I couldn't remember, but I hoped I hadn't.

I was just dozing off on the couch, while listening to a report on NPR when I heard it. The buzz of my phone on the countertop in the kitchen. I leaped over the sofa and grabbed the phone off the counter in one fluid movement. There was no way I was going to miss another call.

I didn't even bother to look at the ID.

"Sookie?" I asked, after flipping open the phone.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate funerals?" she asked me in a strained voice. She didn't need to say anything more. I understood immediately.

"I'm on my way," I told her, and I ran back to my bedroom to grab my already pre-packed bag.

---------------

A/N: ugh. That was a bitch! *curses* Sooo long.

I hope you liked a little taste of Pam. I thought it'd be interesting to get the story from someone else's perspective.

Much love to **S. Meadows**... yesum, I do. I love you. *hands her a stack of steaming hot GP pancakes* Enjoy. :-)

I'd like to write something witty, and bantery like here, but I'm beat from writing this chapter, I've got nothing. Dammit.

Does anyone have a cupcake? I'd love one.


	22. Chapter 22: The Wake and The Awakening

A/N: Happy Dead and Gone day! Shiz, is it already May 5th? Where the hell does the time go? I ask you!

I know you're all going to be devouring your new books like fiends for the next few days, I do not blame you, but I just hope that you show Mr. Granite Pecks some love. He's been a little down lately, he deserves some. *bats eyelashes*

-----------------

**Sookie**

I was standing in the middle of an overly lavish French-gothic funeral parlor with a bottle of water in my hand, staring blankly into the eyes of a woman who was currently standing in front of me. Her eyes were morose, but the way the woman's mouth turned down into an unmistakable frown as she rubbed my shoulder with her acrylic nailed hand in feigned concern was the most contrived thing I think I'd ever seen.

I might have grimaced. Maybe gagged slightly. I couldn't be sure.

Whatever I did, the woman's expression changed to that of mock hurt and rejection. God, even her reactions looked fake. She moved out of my line of sight with a huff and another person stepped into it. This time a man, in his 60's with a cane and jowls that could rival Nixon's. He shook my hand tersely before he too, stepped out of my view.

That's what the entire day had been like. A series of brief forced interactions with strangers, who were no more interested in me than I was them. I didn't know any of these people because I never ran in the same circles as Amelia's family had. The only reason I was submerged into their world today, was for Amelia. I was there for her. That was it.

Wakes were such strange affairs. I know that "mournful" was supposed to be the order of the day, but what ever happened to those old Irish type wakes? Where there'd be alcohol and music. Of course they'd mourn, but I'm sure there'd be fits of laughter in between the streams of tears. It was a celebration of a life, not the grieving of a death. Mr. Broadway was a hellraiser in his day, I'm sure he would have wanted something more... upbeat than this.

However, Amelia and her family weren't Irish. They were about as W.A.S.P. as they come actually. Still, I think everyone in that damn stuffy room - including me - could have used a nice strong shot of liquor to cut through the palpable atmosphere. Seriously, this was New Orleans, where was the debauchery?

Somewhere else I guess, because it was no where near us unfortunately.

The 'us' being Amelia and me, positioned next to the coffin in a sort of pseudo-receiving line. If the decorations of the room were a bit much, the coffin itself was just plain garish. It was teak with mahogany and mother of pear inlays, complete with real 24 karat gold leaf handles. In short, it was the ugliest casket I had ever seen. More fitting for Liberace than Amelia's father's elegant and robust style. Never the less, I didn't argue with her when we went to pick it out. She wanted "the best" for him, and if that meant a coffin more flamboyant than a Gay Pride parade in San Francisco, so be it.

The line to pay respects to Mr. Broadway was astounding. I silently thanked the parlor for having scheduled a second wake before the burial the next day. There was no way all of these people were going to get a chance to "mourn" appropriately before 7pm when parlor closed.

Most of the people streaming through didn't even care about the man lying forever asleep before them. They were all trying to sniff out an advantage. I could _hear_ it. And even if I hadn't had the ability to read their thoughts, I would have seen it on their snide faces. There devious and horrendously obvious plans to try and weasel their way into Amelia's life, for the sole purpose of bleeding her dry of her father's money astounded me. I found myself standing closer to her as the day went on. Draping my arm over her shoulders and holding her hand, wanting to show everyone else that there were strong people at her side who would not be taken advantage of. Tray stood close behind us, like a guard dog, as Amelia's head stayed bowed, barely nodding to the people stopping to speak a few words with her and shake her hand.

All in all, I counted 20 genuine mourners at the funeral parlor that day - when I was bothering to pay attention to them that is. Seven of those were relatives, and that number excluded Tray, Amelia, myself and Tara Thornton - a mutual friend of ours from Bon Temps. When I had asked the usher at the door how many people had passed through to "pay their respects" the poor young man looked at me wearily and said "about 400 ma'am."

Sweet Jesus, Shepherd of Judah. I was trying to comprehend that insane amount of people, half the size of Bon Temps' population, before he looked at me again and said, "We also turned another 100 n' some away."

I balked. Over 500 people had tried to come to see Mr. Broadway's remains, on a days notice? Hell, _we_ had only found out a few days ago ourselves.

I had written out the obituary on the plane, with some help from Tray, and had Lafayette - the owner of the hotel Pam had booked us rooms in - distribute the few paragraphs of kind words to the appropriate news papers and internet news sites.

One day in official circulation, and that many people had found out about his passing? Lafayette was certainly a mover and a shaker now wasn't he? Damn.

-------

I hadn't slept much in the past two days since leaving New York. Any extra energy I had was put into arguing with the morticians and the funeral home staff, making sure that Mr. Broadway had one of the most impressive funerals New Orleans ever did see. Amelia kept on insisting that money was no issue. And it really, really wasn't. Mr. Broadway had been... let me just say, loaded.

And, because this was going to be a New Orleans funeral of a notable and well loved citizen, of course there needed to be a street procession, complete with a Second Line. Mr. Broadway was going to receive a full on Jazz Funeral if Tray and I had anything to do with it.

I had been on the phones since we landed to insure this, and not only did I book a Brass band... I booked two. The leader of one even claimed to be Louis Armstrong's cousin. I didn't really buy it, but the man had such a happy face I couldn't help but say yes to him. He was the only smiling person I had come into contact with since leaving New York City. Except for Lafayette, but he didn't really count.

Lafayette was always smirking and grinning about one thing or other. Normally the things that would make him the happiest were of a devious or somewhat lascivious nature. I took to calling him The Cheshire cat in passing. Of course, when I told him this he responded with, "Oh no honey, I ain't no Cheshire cat, I'm a Pussy cat." With extra emphasis placed on "pussy." He was the only thing that kept me smiling in those few days. God Bless his dirty-ass, hilarious mind. I also made a mental note to thank Pam during that time. She was the one who had booked us the rooms after all. It was one less thing on our plates we had to worry about. I wanted her to know how grateful we were.

Truthfully, throughout those two days, I never had a moment to myself. I was beginning to wonder if this was done on purpose? Maybe not, but the only thing I had wanted to really do was call Eric, and for some reason, that always seemed impossible. A last minute crisis would occur with the flowers, or suddenly Amelia would want to put her father into a different suit for his burial. Someone or something was always keeping me from just sitting down and calling him.

So, when the phone rang the morning after I'd left New York, I had assumed it was the droll mortician getting back to me about Mr. Broadway's last minute costume change.

"Hello," I said, and I didn't even attempt to hide the obvious fatigue in my voice. I was tired. Everything about me was damn tired. And I certainly didn't want to waste energy talking to Lurch's less charming brother about riga mortis, or how hard it is to re-clothe a stiff body. Ugh.

But I was shocked by the voice that answered me on the other end of the line, "Sookie, I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"Eric!" I all but shouted. I'll admit, my enthusiasm was a little too enthusiastic for its own good, but none the less, the tired haze I had been drifting in lifted instantly at the sound of his voice. I practically flew off the couch I was resting on.

His soft chuckle in response only soothed me further, and I slumped back down into the plush pillows, closing my eyes and letting the deep baritone of his voice drift me back to the gelato shop. Where I sat on the hood of his car and he licked the sweet stickiness of the ice cream off my chin. The sun was high in the sky and we had nothing but time it seemed, spread out before us; the promise of new experiences with each minute to come.

But we weren't at the gelato shop, we were thousands of miles apart from each other and the only connection I had to him was the sound of his voice in my ear.

Our conversation was short and consisted of more declarations of love - during which I couldn't keep the giddy smile off my face - and questions about when we were going to see each other again. I wanted him close to me, but knew that Amelia came first in these next few days. We ended the conversation with a promise for me to call in a couple of days, after the funeral was settled and Amelia had some closure to this bitter chapter of her life.

The next day after the wake, after I had been standing in my black heels all day, shaking people's sweaty hands and trying to force their inappropriate and disrespectful thoughts out of my head; after reliving the sadness of experiencing my own grandmother's funeral over and over in my mind, and after having a last minute call from Louis Armstrong's supposed cousin, telling me he had ate a bad bowl of crawfish and wouldn't be able to play tomorrow at the funeral - thank god I had booked two brass bands - my strength finally broke.

The adrenaline spurred endorphin high I had been running on since leaving New York had finally given out, snapping within me. My energy instantly zapped from every limb of my body. I had barely made it back to my room before I collapsed; falling onto the soft mattress of my hotel bed. I buried my face into the duvet covers as tears pooled at the corners of my closed, tired eyes, and I cried.

I cried for Amelia's loss... for the grief of my friend, for the pang of my own remembered agony at Gran's death, for having let all of my guards down and hearing so many loathsome things in the minds of fools that day, and I cried for my own need. My own selfish need for Eric. I had become so accustomed to his affections and his strong resilient personality in our short time together. I felt so altered without his strong hand wrapped around my own.

I needed him. It wasn't a matter of waiting. It wasn't a question of time. It was pure simple fact.

The last thing I did that night before falling asleep in a haze of fatigue and anticipation was dialing Eric's number on my cell phone. I barely registered hitting the "send" button.

He picked up on the first ring, "Sookie?" he said, and his voice was high with expectance.

I smiled minutely before saying with my last bit of energy, "Have I ever told you how much I hate funerals?"

"I'm on my way," he responded immediately, and I fell asleep with a smile on my lips and tears still in my eyes.

--------

I woke to the sound of banging. Loud offensive pounding sounding from somewhere simultaneously far off and yet close by. I was groggy and my eyes stung as I tried to peel them open. My late night tears had dried while I slept and my eyes felt sealed shut for a moment before I started to blink after rubbing them, and the room slowly came into focus.

Soft light was seeping in through the sheer curtains on the French doors that led out to a small balcony off of my room. The only other source of light came from the bathroom - I had forgotten to turn the light off the night before. The pale white of the northern light coming in through the doors mixed with the buttery yellow of the artificial lighting from the bathroom and came together on the ornate pattern of the rug on the floor. All the colors combined and seemed to churn into a repulsive mix as my eyes tried to assess their surroundings, getting lost in the pattern before them. The pounding of the door continued, making the churning all the more violent and my senses came into sever focus all too fast. I wretched forward on the bed and dry heaved.

There was nothing in my stomach to heave up though, so I sat there, my body convulsing grotesquely on the bed as I coughed out nothing but air into the room. My head spun.

"Fuck," I said, holding my head after my bout of nausea had ceased.

_Jesus, what a way to wake up. _

I got up off the bed, regaining my composure and walked over to the door - that was still pounding every few seconds. I quickly undid the locks and swung it open, wanting the loud noise to end as fast as possible.

"Amelia?" I said in confusion as her furious form greeted me on the other side of the door. "What the hell girl?" I spoke softly, my voice still not strong enough to speak fully. It came out a rasp. I put my hand to my head again, feeling a growing headache dully starting to throb.

In short, I felt like shit.

"He's here!" She shrieked at me, and I blinked back at her. Utter confusion apparent on my face, while her face held nothing but fright and anger. I shook my head at her, still not understanding.

"Who..." I started to say but was cut off again.

"You'll leave! You'll leave, he's here and you'll leave and I'll be alone. You can't leave... I can't... you can't.... " Amelia's cries of concern were growing in pitch as she got closer and closer to unintelligible sentences. She threw her head in her hands and started to cry. All I could do was scoop her into my arms and gently ran my hands through her slightly unkempt hair.

We stood there for a long while as I worked my fingers gently through the knots of her hair. She cried into my shoulder and for the life of me I couldn't put the two in two together of what she meant. Even her thoughts were an unreadable jumble of hurt and loss. Only when I heard footfalls down at the other end of the hallway of long strides fast approaching did it click into place.

I looked up from my calming attentions on Amelia's hair and for the second time that morning, my vision spun in front of me.

"Eric," I said, not even believing my own voice.

Amelia's head snapped up from my shoulder and all of the time I had taken to console her seemed wasted in those few seconds. She broke down again when she saw him and I struggled slightly with walking her back into the hotel room behind me, leaving the door open to let Eric know he was welcome if he wanted to enter. Then again, I'm sure no man would want to deal with a screaming distraught female stranger who had just blamed them for their supposed abandonment, so it didn't surprise me when he hung back outside the threshold of the door, his form making a long elegant shadow across the rug. It made his presence felt in the room without him even having to be in it. I was slightly comforted by that fact.

I laid Amelia out on the bed and kneeled on the floor next to her. Petting her hair and trying to soothe her in anyway I could. I wondered momentarily where Tray was, but then assumed that he was still sleeping. The bedside clock only read 8am, and the funeral wasn't planned until noon. He was probably catching some much needed rest.

Which is exactly what Amelia needed. She quickly cried herself out on the bed covers and soon her sobs turned to sniffles and her erratic breathing became steady. She fell asleep not soon after. When I thought it was safe to leave her side, I slowly pulled myself to my feet, my knees cracking from having sat so long on the ground, and turned towards Eric, who was still in the doorway.

Bitterness seeped into me and I couldn't help it. Our reunion had been tainted, and the way Eric hesitated to move towards me, made me pause in my tracks. The comfort level we had felt in New York was no where to be found suddenly, as if it had flown out the window with the sun. My chest constricted at that realization. My breath caught, fearing that our dynamic had changed in those few minutes while Amelia lashed out in grief induced insanity.

_It wasn't her fault,_ I wanted to say to him. _She's upset and irrational. She still has Tray, she has our friend Tara back in Bon Temps and her Yoga studio, that's co-owned by her mentor Octavia. There are plenty of caring and loving people in her life.... She even has a cat, named Bob for Christ's sake. _

I didn't say any of that though, I just stared at him. His eyes hidden from me, as he was backlit from the light of the hallway. I could see his fingers moving every few seconds, as if he were itching to do something with them.

_Don't leave_, I screamed in my head. _Don't leave me. Come to me Eric, please, hold me, make me feel whole again. _

The tension in the air grew, even though we'd only been standing opposite each other for mere minutes.

Just went I thought I'd break down myself and cry, I heard him. It wasn't an audible sound, it was in his head. His mind had opened to me again, and he deliberately thought in English.

_Come to me_, he said. It had been the first thing I'd ever heard him think in English, and even now it felt more like a question than a request. He didn't know what to do; he wanted me to make the first move.

Instantly I felt like an idiot for hesitating. Of course he would have felt uncomfortable intruding on such a heavy situation. Especially the one he had walked in on.

I couldn't help my reaction. I laughed. It was soft and it escaped my lips without me realizing. My total and utter relief manifesting itself in a small chuckle.

I didn't waste another second. I ran and jumped into Eric's arms. My legs secured themselves around his waist, and they felt utterly comfortable and at home there. I buried my head into his shoulder and planted wet kisses on his exposed skin above the collar of his shirt. I heard a soft chuckle into my ear after his initial "ouf" as I almost knocked the wind out of him with the force of my hug.

I didn't care. For a few agonizing minutes I felt that Eric and I had lost our special connection and when I realized it was still there, extremely evident beneath the surface, I wanted nothing more than to be as close to him as possible. I chastised myself silently for ever doubting our bond. It was special of course, but most importantly, it was _real_. My legs hitched themselves more securely around his waist, and my arms redoubled their efforts to cling to his neck. His hands and arms held me just as tightly pushing me further into him, as if I couldn't get close enough. I smiled into his hair, happy with our little game of who could hold each tighter. If I had my way, I'd never let go of him again.

"Hi," he whispered into my skin, and I smiled.

"Hi," I answered back simply.

A minute paced and we just held each other in contented silence. Happy and whole.

"I have a room down the hall," he spoke softly into my ear, right before kissing me just below it on my neck. I shivered around him at the sensation, reveling in the feeling of his hot breath on my skin.

I allowed myself to fantasize about being in a bed again with Eric. In the shower... or on a counter... anywhere really, but I quickly shook those thoughts from my head. They'd have to wait.

I sighed heavily, holding him impossibly closer before replying. "I have to stay with Amelia. You just heard her. She needs to feel reassured right now."

I wasn't certain, but I'm pretty sure Eric stifled a groan before he nodded into my shoulder, not bothering to vocalize his acceptance of the inevitable. Judging by the feel of his tightening jeans beneath my hips, I couldn't blame him.

"I swear to you Eric, if my friend's father hadn't just died and if she hadn't just thrown grief induced nutty because of it, I'd be dragging you down this hall so fast you'd have carpet burn."

He laughed then, and it was genuine. I felt the rumble of it in his chest and pressed myself closer to him still. Wanting to feel his joy everywhere in me.

"I'll tell you what we could do," I spoke again, pulling away to look into his face for the first time since our embrace. His eyes were bright with anticipation of my suggestion. "I can order room service and we can eat some breakfast out here in the hall while she sleeps. That sound good?"

"Well, breakfast is my favorite meal of the day," he said with a smile, and I kissed him. I kept my mouth closed to him though, having not brushed my teeth the night before, or yet that morning. When his tongue traced its way across my top lip and I refused him by pulling away, he frowned dramatically.

"I should brush my teeth first, don't you think?" The question was meant to be rhetorical, but he answered anyway.

"I love the way you taste Sookie, even your morning breath." He said before attempting to fully kiss me again. I giggled against his lips, not letting him win his battle. He groaned in frustration and walked into the room.

"What..." I began to ask quietly not wanting to disturb Amelia, but he cut me off with a small whisper.

"I'm taking you to the bathroom. You can then brush your teeth and get over your silly paranoia of morning breath, so I can kiss you like I want to." His face was set as he spoke and I couldn't help but grin at him.

_God, I love this man._

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A/N: Oh yay, glorious be, they're back together. We can all sleep tonight. *sigh*

Well, I won't be sleeping because apparently I can't anymore. What gives yo? Ugh.

**Definition of a Jazz Funeral (so says Wikipedia):**

A Jazz Funeral is a common name for a funeral tradition with music which developed in New Orleans, Louisiana.

The tradition arises from African spiritual practices, French and Spanish martial musical traditions, and uniquely African-American cultural influences. The tradition was widespread among New Orleanians across ethnic boundaries at the start of the 20th century.

The organizers of the funeral arrange for hiring the band as part of the services. When a respected fellow musician or prominent member of the community dies, some additional musicians may also play in the procession as a sign of their esteem for the deceased.

A typical jazz funeral begins with a march by the family, friends, and a **brass band** from the home, funeral home or church to the cemetery. Throughout the march, the band plays somber dirges and hymns. A change in the tenor of the ceremony takes place, after either the deceased is buried, or the hearse leaves the procession and members of the procession say their final good bye and they "cut the body loose". After this the music becomes more upbeat, often starting with a hymn or spiritual number played in a swinging fashion, then going into popular hot tunes. There is raucous music and cathartic dancing where onlookers join in to celebrate the life of the deceased. Those who follow the band just to enjoy the music are called the **second line**, and their style of dancing, in which they walk and sometimes twirl a parasol or handkerchief in the air, is called second lining.

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Well now, didn't we all just learn something? :-) When in doubt, "Wikipedia that shit."


	23. Chapter 23: Kissing and Family History

A/N: I'm back bitches!

Dude, updating is hard when silly things like life get in the way. Dang.

This chapter was beta'd by the ever so brilliant and witty **Gallathea**... she's awesome. Believe me, I speak the truth.

Enjoy!

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Eric watched me as I stood in front of the mirror to brush my teeth. I felt self-conscious and awkward under his gaze for all of two seconds before the look in his eyes started to make my body ache in a delicious way and my breath hitch. The air in the bathroom closed in around me and I suddenly didn't care that Amelia was sleeping in the next room.

I leaned down to spit the extra paste into the sink, but before I could right myself again, I felt him. He had come up behind me and placed his hands on my hips. His body wasn't touching me, but his heat and presence were evident everywhere around me. I lifted my head to find his eyes again the mirror, and a drop of water dribbled down my chin.

I locked eyes with him and we stared at each other for what felt like minutes on end, as opposed to the few moments I'm sure it was. I could see a multitude of emotions passing through his eyes as they took me in and held me there, unmoving. I do believe he was, no doubt, contemplating the moral aspects of making love to a woman in a bathroom, not ten feet away from another woman who was so grief stricken from the loss of her father, she'd cried herself to sleep, and who also happens to be best friends with the woman he wants to screw senseless up against a tile wall. His face was so concentrated in thought, it was as almost if he wasn't seeing me, just the scenarios flashing through his mind.

Part of me wanted to laugh and break the tension. Another part of me wanted to stop thinking altogether. Clearly, I should have been listening to the "stop thinking" part, because my brain was acting like a hormonal teenager.

I wanted to push myself back into him. I wanted to feel him. I wanted to turn around and kiss him until we both couldn't breathe anymore, until we fell onto the floor weak and high from lack of oxygen and not caring. I wanted to lean over the sink further, spread my legs to a wider stance and say, "take me." I wanted to turn on the shower, strip off all of our clothes, and worship him under the spray.

I wanted many things. All of them included Eric with his hands on me.

All of them would have to wait.

Well, the kissing.... the kissing was allowed. That was the whole point of me brushing my teeth in the first place - besides the healthy dental hygiene aspect, and the fact that I hated cavities.

I smiled at him in the mirror at my realization, and my change of expression brought him back to the present. He seemed to take it as some sort of invitation, and I felt, rather than saw, his arms wrap around my lower torso gently. He leaned over me and placed a kiss on the nape of my neck before righting us both and swaying slightly with me in his arms as he hummed contentedly. I leaned back into him finally, and let his warmth and scent and presence envelop me whole.

It did occur to me briefly that I had let myself become almost utterly dependent on his presence in only a few days' time. I had given over my independent nature - something I was fiercely proud of - for a co-dependent one with this man, who did love me, something I knew to be true, but also lived ten states away from me. Oddly enough, our geography was my biggest concern. Not my lack of a need for independence. I simply saw it as a fact that we were now a couple. A pair. I was still my own woman, but now I had found my other half. I could admit that now.

I had never allowed myself to think like that before, because I had never been in a situation in which it was warranted. The relationships I had before meeting Eric were short and unsatisfying. I'd had some fun in my life with other men, but not love. I had never had love.

I felt complete, standing there, with Eric wrapped around me. He dropped his head to nuzzle my neck and I let my arms come up to hold him to me, not wanting him to ever leave. I could feel him smiling into my neck, and I instinctively knew what he was thinking. I could also feel him very much at attention behind me and knew we had to get out of that bathroom before we christened it with a nice morning quickie... which probably wouldn't be that quick.

Eric didn't move to let go of me as I tried to maneuver towards the door, so we waddled out of the bathroom together, wrapped around each other and smiling. We then shushed each other as we shuffled as quietly as we could through the bedroom towards the balcony. Fresh air would be a good thing. At least outside, the delicious smell that was totally and utterly Eric wouldn't be wafting into my nostrils, and it'd be easier for me not to want to rub myself all over him while simultaneously licking him every chance I could get. Hadn't he just sat on a plane for four hours? Why on earth did he still smell so freakin' delectable?

Eric sat us both down on the same seat outside on the wrought iron patio furniture. Me on top. That was a problem, since being in that particular position made me want to do nothing more than rip his pants off and grind on Mr. Granite Pecks Jr. for the next several hours.

Naturally, that wouldn't be appropriate. Dammit, when had I become so freakin' responsible?

"Nuh uh," I said and tried to get up. He held me down and brought his warm lips to my ear. I shivered involuntarily.

"I can't kiss you if you keep trying to get away from me."

"Honey, the last thing I want to do is get away from you. What I'm trying not to do is jump your bones. You're making it rather difficult."

"That's my plan," he said with a smirk and started kissing me behind my ear. I melted. All the adrenaline that had pumped through me from the shock and awe of seeing Eric suddenly died. I felt all my limbs go weak, and I simply sunk into his warm embrace without any further struggle. I had been on such an emotional roller coaster the past few days, I was surprised I just didn't pass out in his arms.

"I missed you," I said in a whisper, slightly dazed from the workings of Eric's tongue.

"You have no idea," he told me with a squeeze around my middle. His scruff was scratching my neck, but I liked the feel of it. It was Eric. And, for some reason, his soothing presence and scruffy chin triggered a bought of my verbal diarrhea.

"Yesterday, at the wake... God, all those people. It was just, I hated seeing them all. What's worse, most of them weren't even sincere with their 'condolences.' They all just wanted to bleed Amelia dry of her inheritance. It took all the will power I had not to punch each and every one of them in the face as they walked by."

"You heard them?" He asked, but I knew he meant his question in the context that I could hear their thoughts.

I nodded. "Yup. When I wasn't thinking of losing my Gran, their horrible schemes were swarming through my head."

"She was special to you, wasn't she?"

It occurred to me then that I had never talked to Eric about her. It shocked my slightly.

"She raised me," I said with a shrug, struggling to find a big enough word to actually describe how much she had done for me in my life. "She was more a parent to me than my own mother. Then again, I didn't get to spend much time with my mother."

"What happened to her? Your mother, I mean."

"She died when I was little. So did my father and brother. There was a flood, and they had been stuck on a bridge. The water came and my parents, my brother, their car, everything, just got... swept away." I brushed my hand through the air, trying to illustrate. I had never known exactly how it happened. I had only been told. I hadn't been there, but I had pictured it in my nightmares for years and years. Each one of their pale, deathly faces, haunting me each time I dared to close my eyes as a child.

I suddenly felt the prickling sting of tears filling my eyes and cursed myself for getting nostalgic. I slumped into Eric's chest further, burying my head in his shoulder and soft hair, before my traitorous tears could make an appearance, yet again.

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**Eric **

As Sookie curled herself into my chest and inhaled deeply every few seconds, trying to steady her breathing, I sat there feeling overwhelmed for her. Sookie had lost practically her entire family in the short span of her lifetime.

I hadn't known.

No wonder she hated funerals.

She was trying not to cry, but she shouldn't have held back. If her body needed the release, she should have let it come. The way she had been handling all the loss around her only made me love and admire her more. She was strong, incredibly so for not only dealing with her grief stricken friend, but for keeping her own grief at bay long enough to ensure that Amelia would be okay, and that her father's funeral was taken care of.

I suddenly felt idiotic for not being aware of her family's history and wanted to know more... everything. I wanted to ask her more questions, hear more about her life, but I didn't dare. Her breathing had become steady, and I felt her long deep breaths on my chest. Her sniffles had stopped and her shakes had died down. Her emotional episode had ceased, and she had fallen asleep. She was peaceful in my arms, and I couldn't bring myself to wake her.

I had gotten on the plane the previous night with one goal in mind: getting Sookie back into my arms. I was restless the entire flight, and I'm pretty sure more than one of the stewardesses wanted to wring my neck for my failure to abide by the standard rules of flying. They cursed at me under their breath, and I cursed at them right back, only in Swedish. One actually tried to spill coffee on me 'by accident,' but I caught the urn in her hand before she could even pretend to trip.

None of that mattered to me, though; what mattered was that I had achieved my goal. Sookie was in my arms. Everything else, the kisses, the questions, the love, the future, could wait. I had Sookie. I was fine.

------

Amelia had woken up a half an hour after Sookie had fallen asleep on my lap. Sookie was a slight little thing compared to my size, but the backs of my thighs were digging into the wrought iron of the old patio chair. Damn French designs. But whenever I looked at her sleeping, peaceful face, the pain faded, and I couldn't bring myself to care. I was glad she was getting some sleep; she needed it.

After hearing Amelia stir inside the room, I watched as she climbed off the bed in a groggy haze before walking out to the patio - probably looking for Sookie, no doubt, only to find me with my arms wrapped around her. Her face was crestfallen and resigned. She looked exhausted, and her eyes were red, despite her nap. I felt for the girl, I really did.

She didn't say anything for a good minute. She just stood in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of her. I tried to convey my sympathies towards her through my eyes and expression, not wanting to speak and have my voice wake Sookie, nor wanting Amelia's anger to flare up again, which would also result in Sookie waking up.

It's not that I wasn't slightly angered by Amelia's behavior. I did entertain the idea of asking Pam to slap her across the face when she arrived. (I didn't hit women; Pam, however, had no qualms about it.) But, the truth was that I didn't want to waste the energy. Being angry was tiring, and I couldn't blame Amelia for the tragic turn of events that had occurred. Her life had been thrown off balance, and I could understand and relate all too well.

She mouthed "I'm sorry," to me from her spot in the doorway and I nodded as an acceptance of her apology. Her face suddenly warmed with a small satisfied smile and she turned to go, not saying another thing. I saw the light from the hallway spill into the room for a second as she stepped through the door before shutting it behind her. I couldn't help but grin. That went better than I had expected.

Sookie continued to sleep for a little while longer, and as she did, I formed a three part plan in my head.

First: I was going to have to have a talk with Tray. Amelia needed some life-affirming reassurance. And by reassurance, I do mean the horizontal tango.

Second: Food. Both mine and Sookie's stomachs were growling up a storm. I had no idea how Sookie was napping through it. The funeral was no doubt some time in the afternoon. If I didn't get some fucking pancakes and a cup of coffee in my stomach beforehand, things might get ugly.

The third part of my plan, which was mostly just a pipe-dream fueled by the feel of her warmth on my lap, was getting Sookie in the shower with me. We had to be clean and presentable for the funeral, surely, and taking a shower together would be very eco-friendly of us. I only hoped Sookie would see my side of the argument when she woke.

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A/N:

The next chapter will be longer, I just wanted to get this out to you now.

Do you think Eric will succeed in his three part plan? Especially part three... hmmm, I wonder.

*strokes imaginary beard, twists phantom mustache*

p.s. I will be going away from June 2nd to the 8th on vaca out in Colorado to visit me cuz. Sooooo... I'm gonna try to write on the plane, but if there's a suspicious lack of updating, you know why.

Ciao ciao... bear dog.


	24. Chapter 24: Funeral Rhythm and Blues

A/N: Okay, y'all really, really, really, ridiculously have to thank **Gallathea** and **FarDareisMai2** for this one. The muse-o-meter for this bitch of a shizzle-diddle was reading zero for what felt like a decade. Two sessions of 'chat therapy' with them, and some much needed back n' forth with Galla - the glorious goddess of all that is grammar - are what brought this bastard of a chapter out into the world in a relatively short amount of time.

There's some tropicana pure premium citrus hidden in here somewhere too. Yes, I'm that good to you, however, it is entirely FDM's fault. ;-)

You might be confused by that sentence, but just go with it. I'm telling you there's citrus down there, so go forth and find!

Enjoy...

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**Eric**

"Tray!" I yelled down the hall towards the tall man in the too-big-blazer and a salt n' pepper shag. He turned, looking slightly confused and out of place.

"Tray," I said again while jogging up to his side, trying to focus his attention.

"Oh, Eric. Hey." His voice was heavy with sleep, and his eyelids were half closed. It seems this funeral had put a drain on everyone.

"Hey. Look, I don't mean to be a bother here, but I have a favor to ask of you," I said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. Tray looked from my hand to my eyes and back, a question clear on his face. I smiled at him.

"How's Amelia?" I prompted.

"Horrible, all antsy and full of nerves, breaking down every five minutes. She's extremely stressed about making her speech this afternoon, but doesn't want to place the responsibility on Sookie. That poor girl, the amount of work she's done for us..." Tray trailed off while shaking his head. My respect for him doubled. At least someone was appreciating Sookie's hard work.

"Yah, 'bout that. Have you given Amelia any extra... _reassurance_ during the past few days?"

Tray looked offended, which was what I expected. After all, I probably sounded like an asshole, but this was for his own good.

"Of course I have, who do you thi-- " I cut him off.

"Not that kind of reassurance, Tray. I swear to you, I'm not being a dick here."

Tray's face softened slightly at my explanation, but the permanent question mark that had been hanging over his head the entire conversation didn't go anywhere.

"I know you're not a dick, Eric, I'm just wondering what the fuck you're getting at," he said with a squint to his eyes and a slight bite to his normally relaxed tone. I took a deep breath and decided to just rip off the Band-Aid, since subtlety was not something Tray seemed to grasp.

"She needs to get laid, Tray," I spoke with my eyes closed, not wanting to see Tray's reaction. After a minute of silence, I opened them. Tray's face was blank, and his mouth hung open. I wanted to roll my eyes, but held back.

Uptight Americans.

"You want me to.... you mean right now... It's her father's funeral today!"

"I know. I know, it's seems odd, but seriously, she needs it." I put my arm around his shoulder and started to walk him down the hallway, in the opposite direction of the crowded lobby so no one would hear. "Listen, having sex in the wake of death is not a bad thing. It's a natural urge. We want to prove that we're alive and breathing, reaffirm our own lives. Haven't you felt sexually frustrated in the past few days?" I asked, wanting to get this conversation over with so I could go do some reaffirming of my own.

Tray nodded. I could practically see the gears switching into place in his head. He was getting it.

"And you said it yourself. Amelia has been extra antsy these past few days. Now, she's normally perky, but never antsy... correct?"

Tray nodded again.

"She needs it too. The proof is in her behavior. Believe me."

"She'll kill me for even suggesting it, though," Tray said, a slight sense of desperation in his tone.

"Don't suggest, just do."

Tray's body language wasn't putting me at ease. He seemed to be regressing more and more into himself as the conversation went on. Did the man have any confidence?

"Tray, you're thinking too much. I can tell. This sort of thing is not meant to be thought about. It's mean to be done. Fevered and fast. Where is Amelia now?"

"She's showering."

"Perfect." I gave him a leer and shoved him off towards his room. "Get some," I said with a nod. No more pussy footing around, man.

I walked back to Sookie's room feeling a little on edge myself. I was still frustrated over Amelia's behavior, and yet I couldn't blame the girl, either. I knew how hard it was to lose someone so close. Nevertheless, she had tainted my reunion with Sookie. Those few minutes in the doorway of her room, seeing her scared and small before me, wanting my touch, and being helpless to go to her while Amelia raged, drove me mad. I didn't know what to do, how to handle such a situation. Everything I thought I had figured out was thrown up into the air once again, and the speed with which this relationship had been cruising suddenly worried me. I knew what I wanted, but was Sookie as certain? Was Amelia right? Was I taking her away from the people she knew and loved? Did I want to take her away from those things?

Question after question bombarded my brain, and I couldn't make them stop. All I had wanted was Sookie in my arms again, and suddenly I didn't know if it was even right for me to have her.

I came to my senses a few minutes later. It wasn't selfish of me to want Sookie; it was right. I had experienced enough pain in my life; it was time for some happiness, and that scared little girl standing in front of me, begging me with her eyes to hold her, was my happiness.

--------

"Sookie?" I called, while walking into the hotel room, not wanting to startle her.

"In here," she answered back from the bathroom. I all but ran to the door, which had been left slightly ajar.

"Can I come in?" I asked while opening it further instead of waiting for an answer. She gave me a look.

"I guess I would have stopped you by now otherwise." She had a bobby pin sticking out of her mouth and was twisting her wavy hair up into messy piles on her head. I leaned against the door jamb and watched her. I was probably making her nervous - girls were always a little self conscious about their time fussing in the bathroom - but I didn't care. I just liked being around her.

She smirked at me through the mirror, "Did you want something?" she asked with a laugh.

"Besides you? No. I'm good."

Her face visibly reddened and the bobby pin between her teeth dropped, clinking into the sink below. I quirked an eyebrow at her suggestively just to drive my point home and somehow, she managed to stumble with both of her feet planted firmly and steadily on the floor. I held back a laugh.

She changed the subject. "Did you want to shower before the funeral?"

"With you? Always," I answered while closing in on her and removing my shirt. Her eyes widened in the mirror, and I chuckled lightly as I snaked my arms around her waist, pulling her back into me so I could envelop her whole. She didn't fight me; instead she closed her eyes and leaned her head back on my shoulder, the loose curls piled on her head were already starting to fall.

"But I've already showered," she said with no conviction whatsoever. I smirked into her neck with my lips and then nibbled gently. She shivered.

I was snaking my hands down her exposed thighs below the hem of her black pleated skirt - which reminded me way too much of a school girl's for my own good - when a knock on the door sounded. I growled into her neck in frustration, and she chuckled at my expense.

Who the fuck? Seriously. I'd kill 'em. It seemed the world was against me and my plans to reunite - in more ways than one - with the woman I loved. I swear, one more interruption after this funeral and I was going to buy us both a one-way ticket to a deserted island. Or maybe Johnny Depp would let us use his? That damn pirate-hippie did owe me a favor.

"Eric?" Sookie purred into my neck, pulling me from my musings.

"Hmm?"

"The door?"

"Oh. Right."

I walked out of the bathroom in a lust filled haze laced with seething anger at the damn doorman. It only subsided infinitesimally when I realized the person at the door had brought us the breakfast I ordered during my little walkabout while trying to find Tray. The promise of chocolate chip pancakes and glorious coffee was the only thing that kept me from garroting the man as opposed to tipping him.

By the time I actually had tipped the flamboyant doorman for bringing the food in, and laying it out nicely on the balcony's table, Sookie's hair had been pinned, sprayed, and fixed perfectly in place. The delicate curls cascading down her long neck tormented me with their intentional disarray that screamed 'do not touch.' This was a shame considering all I wanted to do was thread my fingers into her silky hair and pull the curls out, pin by pin, letting them fall natural and loose, like they should be.

I held back, though, out of respect for Sookie and the hard day ahead. She had fussed and mussed with her hair, wanting to look presentable for the service. For the next few hours, those curls weren't meant for my fingers to tangle through, only to look at and adore.

Once again, I thanked the fact that chocolate chip pancakes were in my near future. With the amount of self restraint I was going to need today, I had better have _something_ to look forward to. Even if it was a steaming stack of carbs laced with sugar.

-------

I had never experienced anything like it before. A 'Jazz funeral,' as Sookie called it, was unique, extravagant, and organic all at once. A combination of pre-planned frivolity and natural flowing urges allowed to be let loose and set forth at will. It was a different way of exhibiting grief... through music, movement, and community. I had seen and known of public funeral processions, and the somber sense of quiet mourning that followed them through the streets, like black rain clouds hanging low while drifting through a town, but I had never seen such an outpour of public emotion. And never had I seen a woman grinding on top of a man - fully clothed - in the street, completely lost to the music and her inner pain, but I certainly did during the procession to the cemetery. More than one couple, too.

The ability to express grief through dance and rhythm... that's what a jazz funeral meant to me when I looked back on the surreal images I'd seen. Bouncing parasols in color coordinated rows, paired with the melting faces of sweating citizens, drowning to the music. The closed-eyed members of the brass bands, leading children in the backing beat of the music while they stomped out a complicated and syncopated time step on the pavement. Their impromptu melodies echoed through the Quarter and bounced off the walls, slipping through the wrought iron galleries of the buildings around us, back down to the people in the streets around me.

_Where had they all come from?_ I wondered as we swayed down the narrow lanes, pulsing ever closer towards Mr. Broadway's final destination.

Everything felt unreal.

The ironic part was, none of that raw emotion being displayed was for Amelia's father; it was for New Orleans. The passionate, driving way the musicians played their instruments and stomped their feet to a deathly beat, wasn't for the loss of a rich business man, but for the loss of their once vibrant home. And even I, an outsider, could tell as much. I just hoped Amelia stayed ignorant to the fact. So far she had seemed unreachable all day, stuck in a fog and slumped into Tray's side. He, in turn, took his role of guard dog and protector well, more posed than I'd ever suspect of a guy who wore that much studded leather.

They had shown up several minutes late to the service at the church only an hour before. Sookie was a bundle of nerves waiting for them during those few agonizing minutes, while I stewed on the uncomfortable church pew, trying to hide my guilt. I hoped Tray hadn't taken my little pep-talk with him too seriously. I meant for him to give her a nice, relaxing mid-morning quickie. Nothing more. I guess I hadn't calculated in the possibility that Mr. Harley Davidson might be a god damned love machine.

I held back a grumble at the thought. It was always the quiet ones.

When they finally showed up, flushed and mussed a few minutes after everyone else in the church had started craning their necks, wondering where they were, I was so relieved it was probably palpable to Sookie next to me. Though, if she suspected anything, she didn't voice her ponderings. In fact, she had been quiet throughout the entire service. It was only when we started our trek to the cemetery - which I found out was ironically named Lafayette - that she actually spoke her first full sentence since breakfast.

"I wonder why Amelia and Tray were late?" she asked, almost to herself. She was looking down and her brow was furrowed; I didn't know if she was intentionally bringing it up, or just curiously wondering on the fact. I didn't respond to her question, I just held her tighter to my side and walked down the street absentmindedly snapping my fingers to the beat.

"You sound guilty," she spoke again. I turned towards her slightly stunned. _How the...?_

"In your head," she explained. "I can't understand a word of what you're thinking on so hard, but I hear my name and I feel guilt. What'd you do?" She was smirking at me in a somber way, the day no doubt having taken its toll on her already.

"Nothing," I lied.

Sookie gave me an adorable stare down, I had to hold back a smirk at her expense.

"Come on," she coaxed. The music pulsed around us, and Tray and Amelia were up at the front, marching behind the horse drawn carriage holding Mr. Broadway's casket. I glanced around me quickly, making sure no one would hear, before telling Sookie, in so many words, that I had basically told Tray to relieve some of Amelia's stress through a nice little fuck. Of course, I explained this to her with a great deal of subtlety and discretion.

Sookie stared blankly at me, somewhat shocked. "It's life affirming," I urged, trying to make her understand.

"They were late because," Sookie lowered her voice to a whisper, "you told them to go screw?"

"Well, I can't be sure if that's _why_ they were late. I mean, there could have been traf..." I tried to explain, but Sookie cut me off before I finished.

"Eric Northman!" she shouted and the people around us all turned their heads at the noise, having been startled out of their music filled daze. Sookie immediately blushed and buried her head in my side. I chuckled softly at her sass and simultaneous embarrassment. She was just too cute sometimes.

"I can't believe you," she whispered into my chest, "on a day like this!"

"Sookie," I leaned my chin on to the top her head after kissing her hair, "it's not a bad thing. It's natural. It's a release, and a relaxant. Amelia was a bundle of tightly wound nerves and frantic energy. She needed it.

"It's the same reason why people always drink at funerals, ya know?"

"Then why didn't you just send them a bottle of tequila?!" she rasped out once again in a strangled whisper.

"Because, I didn't think Amelia would be all too happy with herself if she drunkenly stumbled on her way up to read her father's eulogy," I mockingly whispered back at her. "This isn't an Irish funeral; people expect sobriety."

"Yeah, tell that to those two," she said while nodding her head in the direction of the couple in the middle of a full out PDG. (Public Display of Grinding.)

"Well, this is New Orleans," I sighed.

"I think it's also worth noting that I've never seen _that_ at an Irish funeral," I added in a studious tone as we observed the couple as if they were an after-zoo-special on the Discovery channel.

I heard Sookie snort before shaking her head against my chest... I could only hope that she was smiling. The conversation seemed to be over and I let it rest, not wanting to give her anymore to stress over. Our reunion hadn't exactly gone as planned and I was feeling the frustration from it. We were a young couple in love; funerals and friends going apeshit on us weren't supposed to be the order of events. We had plenty to worry about besides everyone else's well being. The main problem being, of course, our geography.

Would Sookie leave her home in Louisiana?

Could I leave my bar in New York?

Should we attempt a long-distance relationship?

I shook my head the second that thought entered my mind, wanting to rid myself of it. I had been away from Sookie for no more than 48 hours and practically scratched the paint off of my walls. I couldn't be away from her longer than that, and didn't want to be. This wasn't some fleeting feeling, either. It was real. I had already lost something that was real once, and I wasn't going to let it happen again.

I ran my hand over my face and though my hair, feeling frustrated and on edge. The emotion surrounding us was palpable, and it was eating away at me. I felt jittery and off. I instinctively hugged Sookie closer to my side, and smiled as she brought her arm around my waist to give me a reassuring squeeze.

The sun was starting to set as the music became more intense. We all strolled, swayed and stomped to the cemetery in a crowd of grief crazed citizens and curious tourists, the drums matching the rhythms of my heart in my chest.

-------

**Sookie**

By the time we had reached the cemetery, street musicians had joined the bands in our procession, adding new flavor to the music, which was then a mixture of a zydeco beat and a funeral dirge. The only thing that stayed constant were the drums, a combination of snare and bass that echoed off the graves, and mausoleums around us. It had turned into an impromptu jam session before our eyes, and the sullen faces of the citizens were slowing turning to smiles. They had turned the corner of mourning death to celebrating life.

I couldn't help my slow grin. You just had to love New Orleans.

Amelia approached us with a somber smile a few moments later, and gave me a hug. She whispered, "thank you," into my ear and then tore herself away before the tears in her eyes threatened to spill over. She also gave Eric a quick squeeze of the hand before some movement to my right caught my eye. Tray was throwing Eric the universal 'rock on' symbol with his fingers above the crowd as Amelia weaved her way back towards him. Or he was saying he loved him in sign-language. Either one, I was pretty sure I knew what he meant by the gesture. I scowled back at Eric and then rolled my eyes at his innocent shrug. Typical man.

Something occurred to me, though, as I watched Amelia and Tray's body language, and I didn't know how to process it. She looked content in Tray's arms and Tray, himself, looked downright sated. He had taken the day better than all of us, and supported Amelia every step of the way. Literally. I wondered then if Eric's little theory actually had a point.

There was only one way to found out. Right?

I quickly disentangled myself from Eric and watched as his face fell from peaceful enjoyment of the music to confusion at my withdrawal. I shrugged it off and grabbed his hand in mine before I could start panicking, hyperventilating, or just full out cackling at the insanity of what I was thinking.

My Gran was probably on the spin cycle of grave rolling as I winded through the many mausoleums of the cemetery, deeper into the labyrinth of cobble stone, lime, and marble. The beat of the drums and the chants of the mourners muffled slightly as we slipped further away from them, but a constant stream of thoughts poured into my head from Eric.

_What are we doing? _

_Sookie? Seriously, where are we going?_

_You're gonna have to tell me sooner or later, love, because obviously I'll find out once we stop jogging._

I had to shut his thoughts up before I decked him square in the jaw. I was being irrational and giving in to my basic instincts; it wasn't the time for questions. When I spotted a small alley between two large mausoleums decorated in the French style, I pushed him with me into the small space. We were covered on two sides, with only an alley exposing us.

Sweet Lord above, forgive me.

Eric was trying to hide a smirk on his surprised face, but I knew it was there; he had finally caught on. When I practically sliced his leg with his leather belt, after pulling it from his pants in one quick swish and snapping it on the ground, his pupils literally dilated before me. His hands were on me a millisecond later, and I arched my back, forcing my chest closer to his touch.

"I'm thinking we have fifteen minutes before Amelia notices we're gone," I said in a breathy whisper as Eric wasted no time in weaving his hands under my pleated skirt to find the garter belt waiting for him.

"Fuck, Sookie, you've got a garter belt on?" He closed his eyes as a slow growl escaped his lips, and his head tilted back to rest against the stone wall behind him. His hands never left my thighs.

I pulled his head down towards me, taking advantage of his dazed state to taste his lips with my tongue. A hint of chocolate lingered from our breakfast, and I moaned into his mouth as his hands unclasped the garters and moved to find the black lace that was no doubt in his way. I didn't bother answering; I just nodded after resting my forehead on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart echoing the rhythm of the drums in the distance.

Eric was having trouble pulling down the small fabric around my hips, and I was growing even more sexually frustrated as I tore at the button and zipper of his black trousers.

"Rip them," I breathed into his skin as I undid the buttons of his shirt with my teeth - something I was always a natural at.

"Sookie?" Eric asked with hesitation, but I was through with being hesitant. Our time frame was slipping towards ten minutes, and that really wasn't enough time. At all. Ever.

"Rip them!" I demanded, and felt a sharp tug as the lace was torn from my skin a second later, falling to the cobblestone path at my feet after being dropped from Eric's strong hands.

I whimpered with satisfaction as I finally released Eric's erection from his pants, realizing he'd gone without underwear.

"Commando? Seriously, Eric?"

"I forgot to pack a fresh pair," he said nonchalantly before grabbing me by the ass and lifting me up around his waist. My legs wrapped round him instinctively, and I ground into him, searching for the friction I so desperately needed. Eric's head once again fell back towards the wall as he grunted, "my god, Sookie, the heat from your skin."

He quickly got back to business and turned us around so that my back was being supported against the wall as he held me. I dropped my hand from down around his neck and guided him to where I was wet and ready.

"No condom," Eric gasped, as his head slipped into me and we both practically convulsed from the feel of it. It had been too long, and my body had clearly missed him in more ways then one. I was so worked up from that small amount of penetration alone, I felt like a coil about to snap.

"Pill," I said before grabbing his face and kissing him. "You have to stop thinking, baby," I soothed into his ear as he started to move within me. It was a slow pace, and felt odd - though fabulous - compared to the beat of the drums around us. I pushed my hips into his with more force, begging him silently to go faster. He growled into my neck in response and squeezed my ass with his hands, wanting me to slow down.

"This isn't... how.. I pictured... our reunion... happening," he forced out between thrusts.

"Me neither... but you're... the one... with all the theories," I smirked at him and then moved to nibble on his ear. He moaned and I literally felt him twitch within me. I shivered from the sensation and once again tried to pick up the speed. Eric held me back.

I'd had enough of that. What the hell was he waiting for?

He was resting his forehead on my shoulder and I yanked on his hair, forcing his face back to eye level with mine. I stared into his eyes, willing him to see the reason in all this insanity.

"Eric! I love you, and I need you right now," I said with conviction. "Flowers and candy can come later, but right now, fuck me. Please!"

He didn't need to be told twice, his eyes darkened with intent, and I practically welled up with tears when I felt him leave me almost completely before shocking the hell out of me when he shoved himself back into me with renewed force. My head flew back and hit the wall as I screamed out from the pleasure of it. I didn't even care that I'd probably have a bump the size of Jupiter the next day on the back of my skull - and maybe a minor concussion - Eric was finally in the moment with me, and I was going to enjoy it!

We pulled and licked and nipped at each other while keeping up with the frenzied pace of the drums. Eric's hands somehow simultaneously held onto me, supporting me, and also roamed freely around my body, touching every bit of exposed skin he could find. I, in turn, pushed and pulled at his shirt, trying to force it open, wanting to see and feel and explore Eric's fine chest. He wore entirely too many clothes too much of the time.

The sky was darkening, threatening to rain as we heard thunder roll in from the distance. Sounds were all around us, the beat of the snare, Eric moving within me, the rumble of the clouds; it was all too much. Coupled with the rough friction Eric and I were experiencing, and the feel of the growls vibrating in his chest, I knew it wouldn't take long for me to explode.

_Look at me_, Eric thought, and I immediately lifted my head from its relaxed position on the wall, and focused directly on his eyes. I can't believe I had even foregone a second of not being connected with him so fully for staring at the darkening clouds above. Every sensation felt so heightened, I had become lost in it.

Eric's movements slowed to powerful, deliberate thrusts, and I practically screamed with each plunge. His face moved closer towards mine and his lips brushed over my own, whispering into my mouth, "you have to be quiet, Sookie."

I nodded back at him and took his head in my hands before fully kissing him, asking for entry into his mouth with a lick of tongue across his top lip. Several things happened, then, as I moved my tongue in a slow rhythm with Eric's: The crowd of mourners up at the front of the cemetery exploded into applause at the crescendo of the musicians jam session, a shock of lightning went crashing through the clouds, illuminating the sky in a flash of white light, and Eric came violently within me. I dropped my hand from his neck and worked myself to my own release as he rode out his with long circular thrusts of his hips.

Eric's head fell forward, spent and tired, resting onto my shoulder as he continued to pulse inside me. He bit down unexpectedly and it sent a shock wave through me, triggering my climax.

I screamed out into the dusk, wild and erratic, my hips bucking off the wall in sporadic bursts. I didn't care that I had been loud. I didn't care that I no longer had a pair of panties to wear, and I certainly didn't give a heel that we had just had sex up against a mausoleum in a cemetery. What we had just done was incredible, and needed.

"Damn," I said, panting into Eric's neck. We were clinging to each other for dear life, and Eric was leaving lazy kisses along the skin he had bitten on my shoulder. The soft licks, coupled with the twinge of pain from the bite, were sending aftershocks directly to my lower abdomen, making me shiver around him.

"Damn is right," Eric responded.

"No, you were right. I needed that."

"Glad I could help," Eric said with a lazy grin. His hair was a mess of tangles from my hands, and his shirt was wrinkled beyond rescuing. I couldn't even imagine what I probably looked like.

I assumed that at that point we had surpassed the fifteen minute quota, and so we hastily righted our clothing - Eric paying special attention to reattaching my black stockings to the garter belt - and made our way out of the small alley we had just christened. Or desecrated, depending how you looked at it. Eric quickly bent over and scooped up the scrap of black lace that was once my underwear and shoved it in his pocket with a devious look in his eye. I smacked him on the arm and he chuckled at me before wrapping his arm around my waist to hug me close to him. I breathed in his natural musk as we walked, happy to be so connected to him, once again.

-------

A/N: Galla assures me what's written above was all in good taste. *smiles innocently*

What kind of bottoms do you prefer on Eric - for if and when I ever give him underwear - boxers or briefs?

(There's a smuttake all ready to be put up in the Smoking Section if you answer correctly.)


	25. Chapter 25: More

B/N (beta's note) - This chapter of NOR was brought to you by the fine folks at Lemonporium, the curators of the New Orleans Mausoleum, and the letter 'R,' for RAWR.

;-) Galla rocks me socks, mon.

--------

"Eric! I love you, and I need you right now. Flowers and candy can come later, but right now, fuck me. Please!" She had begged of me, what seemed to be only minutes before. Her eyes dark with want, and her body prone and vibrating with energy around me. How could I deny her that request?

How could I deny Sookie anything? It was an incredibly emasculating thought to know that this woman owned me so completely, but one I was willing to accept. Sookie was mine, and I was hers. Nothing else mattered...

... except for the fact that I had no idea where the fuck we were. Sookie had dragged us into this gothic, Lilliputian metropolis, and now we were fumbling clumsily to find our way out of the darkness. The noise of the crowd and the glow of the lights from the street were our only guide, despite the echoes throwing the voices in different directions, depending on where they ricocheted off the mausoleum walls. The mist that had settled with the setting sun didn't help matters. Fog was always disorienting. I realized then and there that I had lived in a city for too long. Depending on a grid of set numbered streets and avenues to help coordinate your inner compass was something I needed to break the habit of. My father would never have let me live it down otherwise.

I suddenly missed my native home.

Sookie was shaking slightly beside me; the fog's descent had brought with it a damp chill that turned the humidity from oppressively hot, to eerily cool as the sky continued to threaten us from above with its growls and cackles of thunder. I pulled her more tightly to my side and kissed the soft silk of her hair, willing her shivers away. She moaned at my slight touch, and my breath hitched at her reaction. My god, the sound of her! That was the sound she made while I was buried inside her, deep and hot, full and tight. Our skin flushed and fevered as we communicated with each other on the most primal of levels. Glorious in its simplicity.

Something had changed within me in the past half-hour, something drastic and strange. I didn't care about finding my way out of the cemetery anymore; I was with Sookie, and really, that was enough. I had been so considerate all day, holding back my own wants, foregoing my own needs to make sure that Sookie's friend was as content as she could be in her situation.

Seriously, how many people would have the balls to tell the boyfriend of a recently orphaned girl, to relieve her stress via a quick morning lay? Tray should have punched me in the face, but the poor bastard needed it just as much as Amelia did, and thankfully didn't take out his pent up frustration on me.

In turn, I had never expected Sookie to do what she had done either: instigating what my body had been begging for. Emphasis on 'body.' I may have accepted that Sookie owned my soul and being completely, but I hadn't stooped so low as to beg her.... yet.

Not that the thought hadn't crossed my mind; my need for her was never sated. I never wanted it to be, and I knew from the moment she had tripped and fallen into my arms back in New York, that she had me, always.

Everything about her excited me, called to me. Her laughter and her stubborn nature, her ice-blue eyes and her glorious body... my god, that physique. It seemed to be made to fit mine, perfect to my eyes in every way. I longed to have her pulled tight and flush to me in a bed once more, so I could envelop her perfection completely. I needed more of her instantly. Once was never enough. I remembered back to the first time I had experienced her, been with her and loved her. How I immediately needed more of her the moment we fell sweaty and exhausted onto my sheets after our combined climax. My body may have needed time to regroup, but my mind had already been envisioning ways to take her again.

I sighed out into the dampened air, pulling Sookie closer to me still, feeling her warmth and savoring it.

Running my free hand through my hair in frustration, I decided silently that Sookie and I really needed to find a bed and spend an obscene amount of time in it. The few hours we had back in my apartment, and the quick kisses shared in the hotel room, were not enough. Nor was our desecration of the alleyway. Though, however unplanned those few intense moments had been, they were needed. Immensely. My god, how they were needed.

Having been with her in that alleyway only minutes before, fast and desperate, had sparked something wholly uncivilized within me: a natural urge so basic in its origin, it wasn't fit for modern society. Having never felt such an intense emotion before, it took me longer than I expected to finally process what it was... I wanted to consume and simultaneously be consumed, to be devoured by her mouth and sweet breath, only to return the favor. I wanted to be paralyzed by the pleasure only our coupling could bring, tangled and twisted for as long as our bodies and minds could stand it. I wanted it more than anything I had ever wanted before. My body stirred at the thought, as the realization overtook me with a suddenness I was very much unprepared for.

The chill no longer clung to me; the only thing my brain could process was heat. The heat I wanted, and needed. The heat that only came from between Sookie's glorious thighs. The heat my hands could no longer stay away from as the arm that was once wrapped around Sookie's shoulder snaked down towards her hip and the hem of her skirt.

I tickled across the soft skin of her stomach with my fingers, and she tried to bat away my hands, but my mind had already been made up. I needed her. Now. Thunder and propriety be damned. Any moments spent away from being skin to skin with her were moments wasted. I moved our bodies towards the first solid wall I could find, pressing her fully against the cold marble and letting her feel my need.

"Eric!" She gasped, no doubt shocked at our sudden relocation.

"Yes, love?" I asked as I teased the skin of her neck with my tongue and teeth, and my fingers fiddled with the clasps to her garters once more.

"Eric, what are you... we have to get back!"

"No, we don't. Not yet. I'm taking you, Sookie, right here. Right now."

"But..."

"I'm being selfish, Sookie." I looked into her eyes as I spoke, willing her to understand. "Once with you is never enough, and the two days away from you were hell."

I kissed her lips, soft and wanting, asking permission above all.

"Open up for me Sookie... yes."

She groaned into the air, a mixture of frustration and pleasure. My fingers had moved on from the silky smooth texture of her thighs to the slick folds between her legs. She was wet, intoxicatingly so, and her skin was still sensitive from our coupling before. The lightest of my touches had her gasping for air, and her hips bucking off the wall into my hand. The reactions her body was having to my fingers were incredibly satisfying; even if she was shocked by my behavior, there was no doubt that she wanted it. Just as much as I wanted her.

"Eric," she whispered into the night, her moans being covered by the rumblings of the storm still threatening above. I didn't answer; I only focused on her and the things I could do to her while standing up, all the while watching her eyes, waiting for that last wall of her conscience to fall.

"God, Eric... " Her sentence trailed off as her head fell back onto the smooth marble behind her. She swallowed down a gulp of air as I bent down to once again taste the sweet salt of her skin, licking and tickling her with my breath and tongue.

I was nibbling on the soft skin of her ear lobe, praying she'd let me continue with this insanity, when I heard her utter the one word that made my yearning for her combust into pure, insatiable need.

"...more."

My head snapped up from her neck, my eyes piercing her gaze. All the walls were gone, and only clear blue pools of mutual desire were displayed before me.

"Yes, Sookie, more. Always more." My fingers slipped into her, thrusting and curling, as her hips moved towards mine, silently begging. I pressed her to the wall with my body, speaking in her ear and telling her exactly what 'more' was to me.

"I want you Sookie, in every way. I want to be with you in the mornings as the sky lightens outside the windows, waking up to your scent, buried in your soft hair. I want to take you in _our_ bed, in _our_ own home, over and over, tangled sweaty in the sheets, fevered and passionate. I want to see the home you grew up in, and for you to show me any and every place you ever felt pain or sadness. I'll take you in each, and forever alter the memory to that of heated sexual depravity as opposed to grief. I want to take you to my home, showing you where I grew up: the forests I played in as a child, and the summer cabin by the shore that my family loved. I want to make love to you in front of a fire in the hearth, cursing the cold away from our skin while enveloped in your heat. I want to swim with you in the waters near the cabin, floating across the surface as the summer sun dances parallel to the horizon, never dipping below the land."

I tried to keep my voice even, but it wavered with desire, growing harsh with each thrust of my fingers. Sookie's eyes never left mine, her mouth open in silent want and shock. I never relented. I had been quiet all day; it was time to show her how much I wanted and loved her.

I felt her starting to spasm around my fingers and withdrew them, hearing her whimper from the loss. Her hips moved towards mine, still begging for more, and I made quick work of my zipper, my cock aching to be released from its constraints, and buried deep within her once again.

"I want it all Sookie, and I want it all..." I hoisted her up around me, "... with you..."

I plunged into her with deliberate force, and Sookie screamed out into the night as another flash of lightning illuminated us and our surroundings. The graves and tombstones remained silent in our presence. We were on hallowed ground, surrounded by blackness and death, as we burned with life and fire. My thrusts were long and hard, penetrating Sookie as deeply as she could take me. I could feel her so close to the edge, her muscles massaging me, pulling me deeper, it seemed, as she clung to me, our bodies never close enough.

I was no longer using the wall for support, merely standing on the cobblestone as Sookie writhed on top me, panting into my shoulder and biting my neck the deeper I went. I savored the feel of her teeth on me, the sting of pain mixed with the power of our pleasure.

"More," she moaned, and I pulled her harder onto me, my fingers pressing roughly into her hips, and her legs hitched around me higher, her heels digging into the back of my thighs.

She cried out, "More!" again, and I obeyed. Any semblance of restraint she had before had been washed away with the drizzling rain that had started to fall about us. The thunder cloud looming, watching and holding off as if it were scared of the competition my girl would give it. Her cries cut through the darkness, echoing back towards us in a dozen directions.

She lifted her head off my neck to look into my eyes, her pupils darkened with lust.

"More?" I asked with a cheeky grin as I lifted and pulled her down onto me once again; her head careened back, falling onto the marble wall behind us, and I braced my legs, not wanting them to give out on us now. I was so close.

"Yes," she cried, and I momentarily had no idea what she was referring to, having gotten lost in her uninhibited beauty. She looked back at me, fisting her hands in my hair and kissing me roughly on the mouth before uttering again, "Yes, Eric. More."

"Only for you," I whispered.

With the leverage her support on the wall gave her, she started to move her hips faster, breaking my deliberate rhythm and increasing our movements to a staggering pace. She kissed me again, but this time feather light as she moved above me, breathless and panting. I could feel the tingling, telltale signs of my inevitable release at her reckless ecstasy.

"I want... all of that..." she breathed. "All of it... and more," she said before kissing me fully, and screaming into my mouth as I repeatedly plunged into her. She took what I gave, and even though I feared I could be hurting her, she pushed for more.

Lightning flashed again, and our eyes became illuminated, locked onto each other, fierce and wild. I reveled in it, seeing that abandon loose within her.

Sookie yanked my hair unintentionally, and with one last thrust I came, violent and ecstatic. I howled out into the night, my voice sounding deep and harsh from the suddenness of my orgasm. My own climax triggered hers, and I felt her muscles clenching down around me, blissfully milking me for more. Always more. I eagerly gave it, pumping in and out of her slowly as we both rode out our incredibly fleeting high.

Sookie collapsed onto my shoulders, shaking and trembling around me. I could feel her ragged breath on my neck in the same spot she had bitten minutes before. It was only when I felt hot mix with the cool of the raindrops that I became concerned.

Sookie sniffled a moment later, and I stiffened, holding onto her for dear life as I realized that she was crying.

"Sookie... oh god. Did I hurt you!?" I had let the animal come out inside of me, and I'd hurt the one thing that meant the most to me in my life. Fuck.

"Sookie?" I urged.

"No," she finally responded, shaking her head into my shoulder.

No? No what?

"Sookie, are you alright?" I asked again, feeling desperate. My concern echoed in my tone.

"Oh shut up, Eric," she said in a cracked voice while raising her head and sniffling. The rain had dampened her hair, and coupled with her flushed cheeks, she looked radiant, despite the blotches from her tears.

"I'm not hurt, I'm fucking happy," she explained in a half cry, half laugh. The curse sounded innocent, coming from her lips.

"Happy women don't usually cry."

"I do. I'm sorry, I know, I'm being dramatic, but just... wow. Eric, what we... that... whatever we just did, it was just too much. I couldn't help it, and the tears came." She leaned her forehead on mine, attempting to gather herself, I assumed. I still hadn't put her down; I never wanted to. I nodded my forehead against hers, not accepting her explanation, but understanding the immensity of the emotion she had tried to articulate.

"I don't think I can stand," she said a few moments later, the smile evident in her voice.

"Good, because I never want to let go of you. I'll carry you."

I lifted her off the wall and began walking along the cobblestones. Well, hobbling would be more of an appropriate term, what with my pants being down around my knees.

"Eric!" she squealed playfully. "We have to put our clothes back on!"

"Oh. Forgive me, I was just given the fucking of my life; my mind's not working properly." She slapped me on the shoulder, and I reluctantly placed her on the cobblestones as gently as I could. The guilt from earlier still plagued me. Sookie frowned up at me.

"Eric Northman, I am not a china doll. I do not and will not break easily. Do not feel guilty about what we just did. You were incredible."

Her hands were on her hips, but her hair was plastered to her head from the steady misting of rain, and her stockings had fallen down to uneven lengths along her legs. Her feisty nature mixed with her adorably disheveled appearance had me holding back my laughter.

"Whatever you say, mistress," I responded, giving her a deliberately heated look.

"I ain't no mistress," she shot back, her accent heavy.

"Good, because I ain't no servant," I mocked with a smile.

"If anything, I'm a goddess," she retorted, with plenty of cheek to her tone.

"Yes you are, and I will forever worship you," I said as I pulled her to me, kissing her with tenderness and love, showing her the care I had forgotten to display before. She slumped into me and I picked her up once again, her legs wrapping around my hips instinctively.

She broke the kiss a few moments later, "We can't do this again. Amelia's going to kill me, and apparently I'm going to hell," she said, gesturing at the graves around us. "I'd rather put that off as long as possible."

------

**Sookie **

Sweet Jesus and Gran above, I am so sorry. Yes, I did, I had sex... twice, in a cemetery, at my friend's father's funeral. I might as well have kicked a puppy and stolen a kid's candy on top of it! God, I am a horrible person. I'm sorry.

But really, I couldn't help myself! Something ignited within me, and I needed him. Desperately. It was an unnerving and wild, not of this world, kinda want. I couldn't do anything but give into it. It started as an experiment, just to see if there was any weight to Eric's silly theory, but then, he came at me again. No, he didn't just come at me, he advanced, like a jungle cat, and lord above, I wanted him. Badly.

And when he started to list the things he wanted, the urges he felt, and the plans he had, all the while teasing me with his talented fingers, I could barely think straight. Anything and everything he said sounded perfect and incredible, and I wanted it all. Truly. If I was with him, I would be happy. Looking into his eyes, filled with a mixture of lust, love, vulnerability, and danger, I never wanted to it to end. The real world had fallen away around us, and we were all that was left. Two figures, blind with love in the darkness and the damp, dispensing verbal love notes to each other, face to face, amongst the hallowed ground of secret keepers.

Yes, any ghosts hanging out tonight had most certainly gotten a show.

-------

The second we entered the restaurant -- we were supposed to have arrived an hour earlier -- I high tailed it to the bathroom. Pantyless and practically crippled, I needed some 'freshening up' time. I heard Eric chuckle darkly behind me as he followed. Whatever he was plotting, I wasn't going to let it happen. I pointed to the "Messieurs" door as soon as it came into sight, while I quickly hid behind the one displaying, "Mesdames," not even looking back to gauge his reaction.

I locked the door behind me, and immediately slid to the floor in a pile of wet clothes and shaky limbs. I needed time away from him to catch my breath, my mind, my everything. The need to be near him was pulling at me, as if I could feel him through the door, tugging on a string that was attached to me somehow. What the hell had happened between the funeral procession and now that made this feeling so utterly unbearable? How were we going to handle this? Because, clearly, staying in bed for days on end appealed to me greatly, but that just wasn't an option right now.

More importantly, how were we going to handle dinner?

Oh god.

Still shaking, and with my balance off kilter, I tried to stand as cautiously as possible. The last thing I needed was to slip and crack my head open on the marble toilet bowl. Once I was standing and was certain my legs weren't going to give out from under me, I dared a peek at the mirror.

Sweet Jesus... I suddenly understood the expression "rode hard, and put away wet." Literally. My hair was a damp tangled mess, and my clothes! No, no, this wouldn't do, I thought.

I immediately went into anal-retentive Sookie mode, grabbing napkins and towelettes to clean up with, drying my clothes under the wind dryers and pulling at the knots in my hair with my fingers. I could make this work. I would not go out there looking like I was just working the corners down on Bourbon Street.

I washed my face, pulled up my stockings, and slicked my hair back into a tight bun, not letting any stray frizz defy me. My loose curled 'do of earlier was nothing but a memory within five minutes' time, and I looked every bit the part of a librarian who had just gotten caught in the rain. My cheeks were already flushed, so there was no need for rouge, though I would have liked some concealer to cover the slight bruise starting to appear on my neck from Eric's wicked mouth.

That would be a problem. Amelia had my purse. I'd have to ask for it later. The mark right now was too light for anyone to notice... hopefully.

I touched it lightly and a wave of memories shot through me._ Eric's mouth on me, Eric's fingers in me, thrusting and unrelenting. Eric pulsing inside of me, all around me... the rain, the thunder, the wet, wet rain..._

I fell forward slightly, catching myself on the vanity. Overwhelming was most definitely the word of the day. How was I going to get through dinner with that magnificent man across from me? Or worse, next to me. Feeling his heat, wanting his touch...

"Sookie?" A knock came at the door, rousing me from my lustful haze.

"Amelia?!" My voice cracked, sounding guilty instantly. Great.

"Who else? Open up, girl."

I did.

Amelia's face went from that of concern to immediate girlish shock and awe within a nanosecond. Crap, I was caught. Her sharp eyes darted from the mark on my neck, down to my shoes and back. She pointed at each in turn.

"You've got a hickey, and your precious Mary Janes are scuffed to high heaven, not to mention you're an hour late. What the hell were you two just doing, and where?"

------

A/N: Had to end it somewhere.

What do you think Amelia's reaction will be?

*cackles and runs away*


	26. Zigs and Eric have a wee chat

A/N: *hesitantly walks in, armed with a viking shield, her Wembley Fraggle doll from childhood, and William Wallace's fucking heavy ass sword*

What? I stole it from Mel. He's batshit. He doesn't care.

Oh, you mean Wembley? He's the shit, dudes! Bettah realize.

So, um... if you look down, you'll see that this is not a normal chapter. *holds up shield* It's a conversation I had with Eric. We've been having some communication problems as of late, and I thought I would share this little meeting with everyone.

It should answer some questions and hopefully make yah smile... hopefully. Oh! And please excuse any typos, this was not Galla'd. Though, Linds did inform me that 'shady' is, in fact, only spelt with one d. Yes, I'm that illiterate.

*cowers behind Wembley* See you at the bottom folks.

-----------

Zigs sits on the terrace of Eric's and Sooks' suite at the hotel, while curiously watching Lafayette across the way humping a Louis IVX style love-seat into oblivion. It doesn't even occur to her that Mr. GP, himself, has shown up for their little chat, and is currently staring at her with a look of sight confusion. After all, people almost never ignore him. It's impossible.

He clears his throat and Zigs jumps.

**Z: Holy Baby starfish Batman! Give a girl some warning first. Jaysus.**

Zigs holds her hand to heart to try and keep it from busting a rib.

**E: Warning? What kind of warning? **

Eric arches his eyebrow and licks his lips suggestively, effectively rendering Zigs speechless, and she relents on her anger.

**Z: Fine. Surprise me all you want. Just be naked next time.**

He smiles back at her before taking a seat and extending his ridiculously long legs out beneath the table. Zigs can't help but stare at his pants and the slight tenting affect that's going on there, because.... dayum.

Eric lets out a soft laugh that is halfway between a chuckle and growl, and Zigs actually whimpers.

**E: Can I help you with something Zigs? **

**Z: Huh?** Zigs pulls herself from her daze.** Oh yah, right. **She clears her throat.** The readers are wondering where you have run off to.**

Eric doesn't answer, he simply steeples his hands in front of his face and touches his first two fingers to his lips, deep in thought. Zigs sighs, exasperated, and decides to just rip off the band-aid.

**Z: Are we done? Is this thing... over? I mean, if we are, you really need to tell me. Placating me is not fair. Not for me, or the readers.**

**I mean, shit dude. Here you come all human n' shit outta nowhere, a fucking god among men, walking through the streets of Manhattan with that cocky ass smirk, all shiny and new and just... guh. I can't even think straight. So yah, I admit it. I started writing. It just came outta me, and I gotta say, we had some pretty good times back there in the summer. So what now? You done? I mean, I know I went and wrote you your perfect woman, so you don't have to worry about me anymore, but Jesus Jerry Springer Christ man, I created you! You couldn't at least give me a warning before you blipped off my radar? **

Zigs' chest is now heaving, and Eric briefly watches the rise and fall of her breaths before shaking his head and preparing himself to answer.

**E: No, we're not done. There is plenty more I have planned. **

**Z: So, does that mean you're gonna start speaking to me again? Are we gonna consider this current cone of silence null and void finally? Because I've been getting shady PM's and questioning reviews with people thinking this story is done. Finito. Piff! And that's just not right. Especially if you have "plans" and shit. Could you please tell me those by the way? So I could, yah know, write them? **

**E: I was pretty vocal about them last chapter. **

**Z: You were speaking in the throes of desperate passion, though. Was it legit?**

**E: You wrote it. You tell me. **

**Z: Yes I know I wrote it, but I'm asking you. **

**E: I realize that, and I'm asking you back. **

**Z: Are you always this evasive? **

**E: Are you always this tightly wound? **

His tone is suggestive, and it pisses Zigs off to no end, because it's not like she could actually launch herself at him or anything, considering he's a work of fiction. Not even fiction... he's fucking fanfiction. He doesn't even have a book binding. Ugh.

Zigs lets out a sad and defeated sort of sigh before continuing on with her questionings.

**Z: So, buddy. Seriously... are you gonna start showing up again? You need to. You really do, because I swear to you, people are getting antsy, and I feel like utter shit making them wait. Do you know how much every single one of my readers means to me? How I smile and get a little weepy at each and every review? Even if it is some annoying ass, grammatically raped, tweek speak one-liner like: "thx 4 the chapter... Upd8 s00n!" ? **

Eric looks apprehensive for a moment, concern creasing his brow before he gazes back up at Zigs, his eyes filled with determination.

**E: I didn't know. **He nods stiffly, apparently making a decision.** We could probably schedule a pow-wow sometime next week? **He offers with genuine eyes, his attitude obviously shifting gears, but Zigs shakes her head.

**Z: I'm sorry, did you just say pow-wow? **

Eric sighs.

**E: Are you available next week, or aren't you? Because, if not, there is are plenty of other things I could be doing with my time. Well, really just one thing... **

**Z: Sookie? **

**E: Yes. That girl hasn't been fucked nearly enough in her young life, and I plan on changing that. **

**Z: You're not gonna get the chance unless I write it. Now, tell me, where do you want to move to? Obviously you two can't do long distance, those two days almost killed you. I'm stumped on a location, though, so this has to be your call. **

**E: No it doesn't. **

**Z: Yes, it does. **

**E: No, it doesn't. It's Sookie's call. **

Zigs throws her hands in the air, stands up and starts to pace.

**Z: Seriously GP? You're gonna give that indecisive girl the reins in this situation? I mean, I know you fucked her up against a mausoleum wall... twice, and you're so pussy whipped you can't see straight anymore, but really? **

**E: Really. **

**Z: Ugh! Well, at least give me an inkling of something! I want to start the next chapter, dammit. **

**E: Sweden. **

Zigs stares back at him blankly.

**Z: You're moving to Sweden? Fuck. I can't write Sweden! I've never been there. Are you trying to make this harder on me? Not to mention the fact that I'm pretty sure Sookie will freeze her tits off the second you step off that plane.... **

Eric stands and immediately towers over Zigs' pathetic 5'6" frame. He gently places both of his large hands on her shoulders before he speaks.

Zigs bites her lip. Hard.

**E: No, I want to take her to Sweden. Just for a vacation. You can write a vacation. **

**Z: Yah, I can write one. But it'd be a hell of a lot nicer to actually take one. **

**E: You're free to come along. **

**Z: You're fiction GP, don't you get that? **

**E: Oh. Then why are we still conversing? Shouldn't you just be writing? **

Zigs sighs, yet again, and leans her head on Eric's chest, trying not to focus on how fucking warm and inviting his scent is.

**Z: Yes, I'm supposed to be writing. I just wanted to get this out of the way first. Clear the air. Make sure you and me were still all good in the hood, because really, we need to get on with this shindig. **

Zigs lifts her head and gives Eric a pleading look.

**E: I agree. Now, may I ask a question? **

**Z: Umm... sure. **

**E: Do I get to fuck Sookie in the restaurant's bathroom? **

Zigs just blinks at him, amazed.

**Z: Dude, you just emptied your spunk into her... twice! In quick succession. How do you even have any jizz in your pants left to jizz right now? Don't you at least want some downtime, or a fucking piece of bread before going for round three? What has it been? Ten minutes? **

**E: Sweet Zigs, you created me. I can go all night if I want to. And besides, aren't I supposed to be modeled after a vampire? I bet you vamps can just keep on going and going... **

Zigs cuts him off.

**Z: What is this? And Engergizer commercial? Are you gonna whip out a drum and a pair of pink bunny ears next? Because if you do, can you give me a minute to get my camera? I need to document this shit to show Galla. She'll flip. **

**E: I think at this point, you're just stalling my sweet Zigs. **

**Z: Quit calling me sweet, it's patronizing. **

**E: Now who's the evasive one? **

Zigs goes to retort, but words fail her. Instead she quickly cops of a feel of Eric's ass, and walks back out through the terrace doors, yelling **"Call Me!"** over her shoulder before exiting the hotel suite.

Its only then, after Eric has turned from watching Zigs leave, that he notices Lafayette across the way, still humping the love-seat. He sits down again and stretches out his long limbs with a pensive look resting on his handsome face.

-----

A/N: *braces self* So, *awkward smile* did it at least make yah giggle?

I know 'fake-out' chapters are the LAMEST things since a limp dick, but I really wanted everyone to know that this is not dead. I've been having some inspiration problems. Mostly just not being inspired enough to write the next bit.

I'm currently studying up on the fuckawesomeness that is Sweden. I like to be able to set the scene correctly when I can. Sis? I might need your help.

And, if I can swing it, you might get some restaurant frisk next chapter. If not, you'll get fierce up against the door-banging with Laffy in the hallway happily listening. He might even have popcorn to eat while enjoying the... uh... noise. Oh yes, I would totes write that for you guys. I would.

*slowly backs out of room brandishing sword, Wembley, and covering her right with the shield.*


	27. Chapter 26: Aftermath

A/N: IT'S REAL. It's a real chapter people. It's almost 3k of real storytime for you down yonder. No more conversations with Eric and I will be posted for the duration of this story. I promise.

First things first: thank you **Gallathea**, goddess of all that is grammar for betaing this wee chappie before us. *kisses and foozles to you* :-)

Second things second: The **Eric and his Great Pumpkin Contest** finalists have been chosen. There's ten and they're all fab stories. If y'all are in a festive fall mood later on this evening or tomorrow, and need a nice one-shot to cozy up with, go read the stories in the community and show the authors your love by voting for your favs. (The link to the contest page is on my profile) Spread the cheer, because the holidays are near.

Oh fuck me, I'm rhyming. STOP THE MADNESS!

26 is below. I hope you enjoy. Ta darlings.

----------

_Amelia's face went from that of concern to immediate girlish shock and awe within a nanosecond. Crap, I was caught. Her sharp eyes darted from the mark on my neck, down to my shoes and back. She pointed at each in turn._

_"You've got a hickey, and your precious Mary Janes are scuffed to high heaven, not to mention you're an hour late. What the hell were you two just doing, and where?"_

_--------- _

My hand shot up to my neck in a fruitless attempt to conceal the mark Eric had so adeptly covered me with. Amelia's gaze followed and her smirk turned into a full-on leer when she saw what I was so helplessly trying to hide.

"Pardon my french Sookie, I've had several drinks, but, did you just get fucked?"

Her hands were on her hips and her eyebrow was arched so high it threatened to head on past her hair line. She wasn't angry, however, and that worried me. She should be.

"How much have you had to drink, Amelia?"

"Oh, just a few. I don't really want to think about anything right now," she explained, her tone turning from blasé to threatening within seconds. "So, please indulge me with the story of why you look freshly fucked, because I could really use the distraction."

Amelia was somewhat tipsy, in denial, and wanted me to tell her about the several deadly sins that I just participated in on hallowed ground. I grimaced slightly at her request; she couldn't be serious. However, I was in no position to deny her anything, so I steeled my nerves and crawled up onto the counter to sit -- since my legs weren't exactly able to hold my weight just yet. (When they call it a 'knee-wobbler' they ain't kidding.) Amelia too decided to get more comfortable, and chose the toilet as her perch.

Apparently, it was story time.

"Which story do you want first? The one in which Eric and I ran into the cemetery to fuck up against a mausoleum wall? Or the one in which Eric and I once again fucked up against a mausoleum wall?" An upfront approach was always best with Amelia; I just hoped that at this particular moment, I was correct in my assumption.

Amelia's jaw dropped at my blunt delivery, and the urge to backpedal threatened to take over for about two seconds before I saw her eyes glint with a fiendish delight. I was right; blunt was best.

----

By the time I finished telling her about the first ménage a trois with Eric, me and the wall, she was squirming so badly, I thought she was going to jump my bones right then and there, or at least request a few minutes of privacy to take care of business. I hoped Tray was okay with the fact that I was going to be depositing a horny girlfriend into his lap later in the evening, because, judging from Amelia's eyes, there was no way she was lasting one more hour without his _special_ attention. Ek, what a thought.

I let the air fall silent in the bathroom as Amelia processed my story, no doubt playing it over and over in her head. I didn't know how I felt about that, but again, she was grieving; if my sex life was keeping her distracted from her woes then so be it.

"... And?" she urged, after a few minutes of strangely charged silence.

"And what?"

"You said there were two times! I want the other story!" Her voice was painfully high as she bounced on the toilet seat. She looked like a five year-old on crack -- a severely disturbing image.

"Alright," I sighed, giving in while I internally tried to figure out a way to fast track this insanely inappropriate experience before Amelia really did pounce on me. She would too; the girl swung both ways.

----

Twenty minutes later -- with my girl-on-girl virginity still intact -- we exited the bathroom, only to find both Tray and Eric standing across the hall from the door, their arms both crossed and their heads held high. They looked stern and defensive, like a couple of military guard dogs on duty.

"Hi boys," Amelia trilled, wobbling slightly into Tray's arms. Did I mention before that she had a flask with her in the bathroom? She pulled it out of her purse, right along with the concealer I needed to cover up my now blatant hickey.

"Amelia," Tray soothed as he enveloped her in his arms and held her tight. "Do you want to head back early?" he asked, whispering into her hair.

"No!" she stated, more assertively than I would have expected from someone in her condition.

"Maybe we should--" I tried to offer, but was cut off.

"No, we're staying here and having dinner. And you," she said, pointing to Eric, "will not be sitting next to little Miss Thang over there for the rest of the night. I don't want any funny business under the table unless it's Tray's fingers up my skirt."

She turned then and started to walk away, leaving us all slack jawed in her wake. Her legs weren't very stable however, and Tray caught up to her quickly to help escort her to the table. The second Amelia's back was turned, Eric was instantly behind me, his hand at the small of my back while the other fiddled with a stray hair that had fallen loose from my now tight bun. I leaned into his side happily enjoying the sudden wave of warmth his body brought mine. I had apparently been shivering without knowing it.

"Mmm, you're warm," I said nuzzling my face into his chest as he bent down to leave a hot open-mouthed kiss against my temple, effectively rendering me incapable of thought.

"Yes, but I'd be warmer in a bed."

"You!" Amelia whipped around shouting, rousing us from our sweet, if slightly inappropriate moment in the back hall. She was pointing at Eric again; this would not go down well.

"What did I just say?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"'_You,'_" Eric responded, quoting her.

"Before that, Casanova."

"Sookie and I are not allowed to sit at the dinner table together. This, however, is not the table."

"Yes, but it's still the restaurant where we will be eating the farewell meal to my father. And I'd prefer it if you two wouldn't eyefuck and rub up against each other every second!" Tray was rubbing soothing circles into her back as she spoke, as if she had a hidden volume button installed along her fourth vertebrae.

If only.

Begrudgingly, I stepped away from Eric's warm hands and addictive presence, feeling as if I were leaving part of me with him. It almost hurt to breathe the second our bodies completely ceased contact. I tried not curl into myself as I walked away from him, towards my now distraught, and drunken, friend. I took her clammy hand and helped Tray to seat her at the table in the most graceful way we could manage. I was not looking forward to this meal in the slightest.

_Twenty-three minutes later... _

"I'll be in touch with the check for the damages," Eric said to the manager, as he pulled out his business card with an air of authority, relishing in the fact that he could control some part of the situation. The man who owned the restaurant stood next to his manager, bald and rightfully distressed with his hands plastered to the top of his shiny head. His mouth hung open in shock as he surveyed his once beautiful private dining area that was now in shambles.

Amelia was outside with Tray in an ambulance, of all things, as paramedics pumped her stomach while simultaneously trying to decide whether or not to try and force feed her a sedative. Adding anything else to her system would not be wise in my view, but I wasn't the medical professional currently taking care of her. Needless to say, the dinner did not go down well.

"Here," someone said gruffly from the left of where I was sitting at the bar with my head in my hands. I looked up just in time to see a shot being sent my way by the hairless bartender. _Was being bald a prerequisite for working here? _

"What is it?" I asked, eyeing the clear liquid.

"Patron. Enjoy," He raised his own glass and winked at me. I smiled at him despite myself and downed the bitch as fast as I could, hoping that the alcohol would burn away the stress of evening.

I was just about to ask for another when two strong, warm hands wrapped their way around my waist, effectively soothing me and tamping down any further need for inebriation. Sighing, I closed my eyes and slumped back into Eric's chest, my need to for his affection never ending.

"Could this day get any more bizarre?" I whispered, too tired to actually speak at full volume.

"I'm sure it could, which is why I don't feel like sticking around. Let's head out," he said, nuzzling my ear and giving me a squeeze.

"So soon?" the bartender asked, rudely interrupting my little moment with Eric. Truth be told, he wasn't being rude at all, just inquisitive, if anything. I was simply dead-dog tired and sick of people piercing the happy bubble I kept on trying to create with my man. The Rock's twin brother behind the bar needed to take a hint, and realize when not to talk. Or maybe I just needed a bed?

"Yes, so soon," I told him with a wisp of a smile, before sliding off the barstool, Eric offering me his hand as I went. "What do I owe you?"

The bald bartender waved one of his large paws through the air, dismissing my question. "Nothing babe, it's on the house."

_Seriously, did he just call me 'babe'_?

"That's kind of you. Then you can keep this for yourself," Eric spoke up from behind me, while simultaneously sliding a fifty along the stained mahogany of the bar towards the bald man. My eyes bugged at the sight of such a tip. It spoke loud and clear: _back off, and good night. _

Despite the fact that we had single handedly destroyed the man's establishment, the owner still came out to the curb to bid us adieu as we waited for our cab to take us to the hotel. He shook Eric's hand several times in the process, thanking him profusely. I was utterly confused at why he'd be so thankful; we'd demolished his private dining room. It was only once we were in the cab, however, that I thought to ask him about it.

"Why was the owner so gracious back there?"

"Hmm?" Eric responded. His eyes were closed, and his head was lolled back on the seat, resting as we rode along the bumpy cobblestone streets.

"The proprietor of the restaurant; he couldn't stop thanking you. Why on earth was he so grateful that Amelia had gone all batshit-crazy in his gin joint?"

"Gin joint?" Eric arched an eyebrow, dodging my question.

"_Of all the gin joints, in all the world_," I quoted. "Wait, seriously? You've never seen _Casablanca_?"

"No, is it good?"

I was speechless, and Eric was leering at me like the Devil as he pulled me closer to him, trying to distract me from my goal. Evasion was a tactic Eric knew well.

"Hold up there mister," I said, pushing back on his chest. "Answer the question." If I could have put my hands on my hips, I would have, but seeing as I was wrapped up on Eric's lap and extremely comfortable, there was no point in moving.

"No, I haven't seen _Casablanca_, but wasn't the main actress Swedish?"

"Not the right question."

"Hmm," Eric tapped his chin and turned his eyes up towards the roof of the car -- which for him was mere centimeters away from the top of his head. Lord, he was tall.

I sighed and turned my head away from him, too tired for games. At this he relented and brought his hand to my face, gently bringing my eyes back into contact with his. I sighed again at the sight, but this time for an entirely different reason. Sweet Jesus, I was whipped. Was there a phrase for that -- the opposite of pussy-whipped? Dick-whipped?

"Didn't you have a question for me?" he teased, taking advantage of my dazed state. I ignored him. I might have been completely jellied by his presence, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of... of... whatever. I was too tired to think, or fight.

The cab pulled to a stop in front of our hotel, the outside lights illuminating the darkness of the back seat. The ride was over, and the doorman opened the car door to escort us out into the night with a white-gloved hand before either of us could say anything else.

It was in the elevator that Eric decided to speak up again, shocking me so thoroughly that I somehow forgot how my lungs functioned and stopped breathing.

"Sookie? Sookie!" Eric called, shaking my shoulders. I coughed back into the present, gasping for air.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" I asked in disbelief.

"I bought the restaurant," he repeated his earlier news. "S'why the owner was so gracious before. First thing to go is that bartender, by the way," he added.

"Who the fuck does that?"

"Fires bartenders? I do, all the time, apparently," he stated, pulling me close. I scrambled out of his grasp, still needing air.

"No, buys real estate on a whim like that? Who are you? The Godfather?"

Eric just smiled down at me, as if I were one of those _special_ people you didn't want to confuse.

The elevator dinged, signaling our floor, and we both stepped off in silence. Eric was still smiling; I was still processing. He apparently was not done with his list of surprises, however, since he shocked me further when we reached our door.

He slid the key into the lock, turned it and asked, "Would you like to stop by your house to pick up a few more things tomorrow night before we head out?"

"Head out? Where?" _Too tired. Need bed. _

"The airport," he stated cryptically, pulling me into his chest and unzipping my skirt in one move as the door swung shut behind us.

"Airport? Where are we going?" I asked. My eyes were closing and my senses were filled with Eric; I didn't want to think about anything else.

"On a holiday," he whispered into my ear before literally sweeping me off my feet and carrying me to the bed.

My last thought that evening, before I fell into a dreamless sleep with Eric warm and present at my back, was something along the lines of, _a holiday? That'd be nice._

_---- _

A/N: *sigh* Yes, a holiday would be nice. This story will probably be wrapping up soon, but a nice holiday and some fun times are still in its future. :-) I'm looking forward to writing them, and I hope you enjoy them once I do. Thanks so much for sticking with me through my NOR writing drought. *hugs*

What I'm going to write below is shameless, I tell you, **SHAMELESS** self pimpage. So run away if you're adverse to such things...  
To those who stayed. Okay, so... umm... I wrote a fic for a the Slash/Backslash contest. Annnnd, that's it. I just wanted to put that out there. Yup. *whistles innocently* It's posted on my profile in case you're intrigued.

See you real soon!  
(why? because *we* love you)  
M-O-U-S-EEEEEEEEEEEEEE...

god, I'm insane. *runs off*


	28. Chapter 28: Changing Dreams

A/N: I'm throwing y'all a holiday boner.

Yes, you read that right, a boner. There's citrus down there. That's mostly all there is. Plot will continue next chapter, but for now, enjoy some lemonade. I feel I owe it to you all, what with me taking forever to update, and the fakeout chapter. Enjoy chillins.

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I felt warm lips on my skin, tingling and teasing, willing me awake. I didn't try to fight it as awareness overtook me and my eyes opened to sunlight streaming in through the plane's window. The sun was just starting to set, and from our vantage point high above the ocean, we could witness its beauty easily. I squinted, wanting to turn my eyes from the bright red rays, but was unable to look away from such a sight.

"Beautiful," I sighed.

"Mmm yes, I'd agree." Eric, however, was not looking at the sunset. Instead his attentions were focused on my neck, where his lips were still lingering. I smiled, happy and tired. Eric could be a total corn-dog, and that was fine by me.

"Who's private jet is this again?"

"Johnny Depp's."

"Seriously?!"

"If you're going to get that excited over his pirate ass, then no, not seriously," Eric said with a frown. I smacked his hand away from my lap.

"I was just intrigued, s'all. Johnny's hot," I said with a shrug.

"Yes, but is he tall?"

"Tall? That's what you're going to counter with? Tall?"

"Well, I could have gone for graciously endowed and/or desperately in love with you, but those seemed like easy shots."

I gave him an exasperated smirk and once again turned to focus on the view of the sunset from our window. Eric's hand had found its way back into my lap, twining his fingers with mine. I let them stay, figuring he'd just keep trying if I shooed him away again. And really, why would I want to shoo Eric or his talented hands away? I ain't stupid.

"What's the name of your town again?" Eric asked a few moments later.

"Bon Temps."

"Good times? Nice." Eric responded in a surfer boy's accent. I snorted.

It wasn't just a coincidence that we were traveling on Johnny Depp's private jet. In fact, it was a rather hard-to-pull-off favor that landed us on the plane in the first place. Thankfully, Johnny's jet was a time-share and his co-owner had been staying in New Orleans for the season, so snagging it with a bit of Eric's finesse wasn't too difficult. Eric did grumble something about losing out on getting to see Johnny's island. I have no idea what that meant, though, I did ponder whether or not he was using a euphemism. Johnny's island seemed suggestive to me. So did Johnny's Jet. Then again, maybe I was just spent and needed more sleep. That must be it.

We had visited Amelia in the hospital earlier that day. She was fine, asleep, and looked somewhat content. It must have been the drugs. Tray, on the other hand, looked downright catatonic. Her room was quiet, a sanctuary for Tray, but being in hospitals was never a pleasant experience when it came to me. I could _hear _everything. The guilt, the doubt, the pain, the suffering, the loss of hope and faith. The doctors playing guessing games with tools and medicines, and the patients skeptical and cynical thoughts that practically bordered the existential. I could never be at peace in a hospital, and Eric, thankfully, saw my struggle.

"Should we go?" he asked, his eyes searching mine for the reasons he already knew. I simply nodded at him with half closed lids. The strain of the last few days was wearing on me, and the constant thoughts and feelings of death bombarding me were not helping in the slightest.

-----

I was sitting on a cement bench outside the hospital, catching some air when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I knew it was Eric before even answering. "What did they say?"

"They're discharging her within the hour. I've gotten a hold of a flight for us as well."

"How? This crazy fog has the airports swarmed with delayed and cancelled flights."

"Private jet, lil' girl." I could hear the smugness of his tone. The boy was proud of himself. I wanted to chide him for it, but I was too tired and too relieved to do anything but sigh. We were getting Amelia back to Bon Temps, and Eric was coming. Thank Christ.

"I'm bringing you coffee. Be out soon," Eric said before he cut the line. I closed my eyes and tilted my head towards the sunless sky, contemplating what had happened last night after the whole restaurant debacle. Eric had promised me a vacation. Wasn't I just on a vacation up north?

Regardless of my misgivings on the timing, he couldn't make good on his promise fast enough.

-----

"Is she gonna be okay?" I whispered to Tray, as we helped Amelia into the plush leather seat on the plane that Eric had so miraculously wrangled for us at the last minute. She was wearing a headscarf and sunglasses, looking for all the world like a celebrity going incognito. I told her as much and she smiled through her drug-addled haze.

Tray merely nodded at me with a look of utter relief on his face. I heard in his head how they'd agreed to give her a little extra dose of valium for the plane ride. Bless the ER nurses.

I didn't remember falling asleep in Eric's arms on the plane, but I certainly didn't mind waking up in them. It was only the four of us on the jet, save one flight attendant and the two pilots up in the cockpit. The result of which, for me, was almost complete silence. I don't know if Eric had taken that into account when he was pulling whatever strings he needed to pull, but I was greatly thankful for it now.

As the plane began its descent towards Shreveport -- the closest airport to my little hole of a town -- I felt the nerves starting to build up in my stomach. Eric was going to see my home. The town I grew up in, the restaurant I'd worked at since high school, and the run down shops of main street. He was going to see it all... what if he didn't like it?

Louisiana is a poor state, to be sure, but we're a proud people. I knew I didn't grow up in the most fortunate of circumstances, but I had never before felt embarrassed by them. I gave myself a mental slap in the face. Eric wouldn't care. Eric had flown thousands of miles to comfort me, while my grieving friend, time and time again treated him like a stray dog -- something to be wary of or shoo away with your foot. Yet he stayed, and helped clean up every single mess that we'd managed to create. Surely, he could handle tumbleweeds and a few gap-toothed smiles. At least, I hope he could.

Eric kept quiet as we all climbed into the taxis that would take us back to our respective homes. Tray insisted that I head directly to Hummingbird Road, and quit worrying about Amelia. He assured me that some time in bed with her valium and chocolates would do her well. Out of all the people Amelia had lashed out to in the past few days, Tray was, fortunately, exempt and so deemed himself the best man for the job of nursing her back to normalcy. He promised to take care of her and keep her at his house for the next few days. His declaration was music to my ears. With a final hug and kiss to both Tray and a sleeping Amelia, Eric and I left them behind and headed back to my house alone.

Walking into the large, empty house without Amelia at my side, or bounding down the stairs to greet me, was rather strange. The fact that a six-foot something man was next to me, holding my hand and nuzzling his nose into the crook of my neck as I stepped into my foyer, was even stranger. I was utterly relieved and happy to be home and yet, something felt out of joint. Off.

I gave Eric a quick tour of the ground floor, not really paying attention to what he thought of it. On the inside, I was searching. Searching for what was making me uneasy.

"What are you looking for?" Eric asked, slightly confused.

"I don't know, something doesn't feel right."

"Hmm," Eric responded, with a cheeky tap to his chin, before he boldly walked down the hall towards my bedroom.

"Hey, where are you..." I tried to ask, but lost the ability to speak as I watched Eric casually lay out on my bed, and throw his hands behind his head. He looked over at me with a cocky smile and raised an eyebrow in invitation.

"Better?" he asked.

I snorted despite myself. Was he serious? I was having a legit soul searching moment back there, and he thinks sex right now is going to help? I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. Men are impossible.

Eric was determined, however, to get a rise out of me anyway he knew how, and shimmied a bit on the bed, making an Eric-sized intent on my perfectly draped comforter, while he waggled his eyebrows at me. I scoffed at him and turned to leave, but the next thing I knew I was wrapped in Eric's strong arms and being pulled down onto the mattress.

"Come on Eric I was serious back there. Something seems off."

Eric easily arranged my tiny body into his side and curled himself around me. "I know, I'm convinced it was this."

Well, that was a rather vague answer. "What do you mean?" I asked, sighing and sinking into his warm embrace without a second thought, as if it were second nature.

"I mean me. I wasn't apart of your home before now. Having me here feels odd. I'm trying to erase that odd feeling."

"Sweet Jesus, you sure think highly of yourself, don't you?"

"Not really. I just know I'm right."

"I think I've bit off more than I can chew with regards to you, Northman."

"Likewise, Stackhouse."

"So, where does that leave us?"

"Right now? It leaves us in this bed, all nice and cozy. I suggest nap time."

"You're the only man I know who actually enjoys napping."

"Correction, I enjoy snuggling."

I gave my ass a little wiggle against his pelvis to show my amusement, since I knew he couldn't see the silly smile on my face. His resulting groan only heightened my mood. Whatever unease I'd felt upon entering the house had miraculously disappeared as Eric and I fell asleep wrapped up in each other on my bed. I didn't question it; I was too happy feeling content.

Despite the fact that I had fallen asleep with a smile on my face, the dream that followed was nothing short of terrifying. It was a relived memory, except it wasn't my own. It felt like a fabrication, something pulled together by hundreds of thoughts and retellings of a story. Whatever the cause, watching my parents' death happen before me, without so much as being able to move one limb to help save them, had me screaming. I pushed and strained against whoever was holding me back and flew forward into consciousness, gasping for air.

"Sookie..." Eric sounded hoarse and spoke barely above a whisper. I could hear the sleep in his voice and turned to find him eyeing me on the bed, concern evident in his eyes. I collapsed against him, spent, yet again. I just couldn't catch a break it seemed.

"Sorry," I rasped out, while wiping the sweat off my forehead. "I didn't mean to--"

"It was a nightmare Sookie. It's fine," he said, cutting me off and pulling me close.

"Jesus, Sookie, your heart." It was beating a mile a minute, I could feel it practically drumming out of my chest, and I couldn't make it stop.

"This house," Eric started quietly as he rubbed soothing circles into my back. "There's a lot of bad memories here aren't there?"

I nodded into his shoulder, but then shook my head in disagreement. "Yes, and no. There're good memories too."

"I promised you I'd take those negative feelings away. Replace them with good."

I nodded again, too mentally exhausted to do much else. I knew what he was referring too -- his speech in the cemetery. He'd sounded so determined that he made my knees weak when he told me of such things. But could I really do that? Here? Of all places, I had never shared this bed with anyone, and the only sex that occurred in this house, too my knowledge, was had by Amelia and her past conquests. My few and far between experiences had taken place elsewhere. It didn't seem right to me, at the time, to bring a hookup home.

Eric was different. He wasn't a hookup. Eric was real, present, and someone I blindly trusted. It took me all of 2.5 seconds to lose myself in him and I swear on my grandmother's grave, I never wanted to be found. He had me instantly, all of me. I knew it and so did he.

Slowly, I turned my head and looked up, searching out his beautiful face. His eyes were asking a question that only I could answer, and by hitching my leg higher along his hip, allowing my thigh to graze his pelvis, I did. I pressed down with my leg, anchoring myself to him, feeling his heat and pressing my own into his side. His eyes momentarily closed as a small moan slipped past his lips. I moved up his side quickly, capturing his warm breath before it had a chance to escape into the chill of the room.

"Make it go away," I breathed against his lips.

"Gladly."

Eric scooped me up and rolled us both over so that he was resting above me, holding his weight with his arms at the sides of my head. His hair, loose from its normal ponytail, fell around us, blocking out the cold and leaving me with only him and his warm breath on my skin. I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation as he closed the distance between our bodies, pressing himself to me fully, from pelvis to lips. I pulled him even closer, my legs wrapping around him without a care.

So began the slow movements of my blissful torture with Eric's hips rolling into mine. Hot breaths mixing, soft lips and tasting tongues. Massaging fingers twisted in the bed sheets and hair, and heady scents permeated the chilly, dry air. The only problem was that our clothes were still very much present between us. Eric made quick work of them, unbuttoning and pulling, tearing and throwing; they seemed to disappear faster than I could blink. All the while, Eric stayed above me, grounding me in this new reality, with him in my home, my life.

"Remember this," he whispered as he slid into me; the perfect anomaly of hard and soft. The feel of him erased all doubt inside me as to whether this was right, and replaced it with that insatiable need to be consumed by him. I gasped before all the oxygen left my lungs, rendering me speechless. I nodded to him my promise. I _would_ remember, I'd never be able to forget.

"More," I breathed, pulling him into me further as my hands dug into his smooth skin. The muscles of his hips and backside were straining as I held him deep within me. Eric's head flew back, his hair flying with him, leaving his neck exposed to me. His veins and tendons stood out in sharp contrast to each other as I clenched my muscles around him, not yet climaxing, but teasing, purposefully pulsating around him. He growled out, shaking his head before dropping it to my neck, moaning helplessly into my skin.

I rocked into his hips, willing him to move faster. He was keeping an agonizingly slow pace, leaving me quivering beneath him, and always wanting more. My hands trailed tirelessly over him, digging into his shoulders, arms, back and hips. Pushing him further, wanting him closer as I breathed my mantra of "more" over and over.

Eric kissed and teased my skin, leaving trails of tingling fire in his wake until I thought I'd self combust beneath him if he didn't pick up the pace soon. I was on the precipice, I could feel it, and he was holding me back from the edge. On purpose, for sure.

Just when I thought I'd go mad from the patience he seemed to be exercising with me, I heard him grunt low and feral above me, his hips jerking with the sound. I moved my mouth to the firm skin between his neck and shoulder and bite down, spurring him on, willing his inner animal to take over.

And it did. He pushed once, twice, three times into me with a renewed force. My body slid up the bed with each movement of his hips as the springs of the old mattress squeaked below us. On the fourth thrust something snapped within him and I knew he was letting his instincts take over. He pushed up on his arms and re-angled his hips, moving his thighs underneath my backside. My hands reached out towards his body as he sat up and away from me, repositioning our bodies. I wanted him closer, to kiss and feel his weight, but the second he had settled himself and moved within me again, I saw stars.

"Oh god!" I cried out. He'd found that sweet spot inside me, and his pace wasn't letting up as he hit it over and over and over again. Relentless, non-repentant.

I couldn't. Even. Breathe.

"Remember this," he said again. His voice deep, predatory. All I could do was scream. The ledge he had kept me on, held me over, never letting go, had disappeared all together. There was nothing but white, hot sparks of ecstasy bursting behind my eyelids as I squeezed them shut. My hands gripped my hair, searching for leverage that was nowhere to be found.

"Sookie," I heard him rasp. My eyes shot open, locking onto his. He wanted to see it, see the phenomenon of feeling he was creating within me, and I wasn't going to deny him. Watching the lust in his half-lidded eyes created a never ending loop of give and take between us. I wanted and so did he; I'd never look away.

My entire body tensed as I felt the tingle in my nerve endings start to spread. The feeling of the most intense high that one could ever experience, or would ever want to, slowly took over my body. I grabbed Eric's hands where he was holding my hips, and dug my fingernails into his skin, giving him a silent warning. He nodded to me as I tried so desperately not thrash my head from side to side. The need to move... anything, overtaking all thought.

Eric's thrusts became erratic, speeding up and slowing down with the rocking of my hips. I squeezed his hands harder, begging him to stay with me, to keep the rhythm. I was so close.

_So close... _

All at once, after mere minutes or moments, I didn't know, I shouted, "Now!" Our eyes broke contact, our heads simultaneously arching away as our hips moved closer together, where they froze as our bodies spasmed together, within and around each other. Echoes of our screams and cries filled the space of the old bedroom, seeping into the walls and forever altering its energy.

Eric's pelvis jerked against the apex of my thighs several times as he pulsed inside me. Each time he hit my most sensitive areas within and outside of me, sending aftershocks of tingles through each and every nerve ending in my body. I gasped and squirmed on the bed beneath him, writhing in the agony of such pleasure.

His knees slipped out from beneath me as he fell to the side, landing on the mattress in a dull-springed bounce. We were a sweating, hyperventilating mess of tangled limbs and seemingly electrified blond hair. I would have laughed at us if I had the energy or motivation to open my mouth, but I could barely raise an arm to twine my fingers with his.

I let Eric do the work as he pulled me to his side and wrapped his arms around me, enveloping me in his strength.

"We need a shower," I was barely able to say. Our combined breathing was still pitiful. There was no point in speaking, yet Eric responded.

"Later. Nap first."

"Again?" I rasped out with a chuckle.

"Yup."

I didn't have time to retort, I was already unconscious. This time, the dreams stayed away. The angry water and the screams were nothing but an almost memory at the periphery of my brain. What stood in its place was a towering man dressed in black, holding me up, and keeping me from falling.

----------

A/N: Did everyone like this? Well, if you did, please put your hands together for **Glamoured69** and **Chicklette**. They beta'd, and they're awesome. *hugs*

Oh, and btw, I'm in this little Twi contest called Slash/Backslash. My fic _The Rabbit_ for some strange, wonderful reason made it into the second round of voting. I'm kind of giddy over it. So, if you like my writing (or poker for that matter) it'd be awesome if you went and gave it a read. It'd be even better if you could give it a vote, but only if you wanna.

What's cooler? FarDareisMai2, S Meadows and Ehee are also in the second round! Squee! Score one for the SVM authors! Their stories are kickass. Give those a read too if you're in the mood. Bring hankies.

Okay, enough shameless pimping and rambling from me. Have a great holiday everyone, I promise plot next time. *hugs and kisses*


	29. Chapter 29: Changing Plans

a/n: Many, many thank yous go out to** S Meadows** and **Glamoured69** for their beta awesomeness.

I'm determined to not let this story die before it ends. So, in order to save it from itself, I've switched up some stuff. Enjoy.

--------

The next day, I woke up before Sookie to sunlight streaming into my eyes through the windows. She was curled up into an impossibly small ball at my side, her hands clutching at my bare skin, and her head buried in my neck. I pulled her closer, holding her tight. It was drafty in her room, and I was worried that the small ball she had twisted herself into was a result of her being cold.

Not wanting to wake her, I carefully detangled myself from her grasp and slid out of the bed, but not before I'd rearranged the blankets around her, nestling her in their warmth. Of course, it would have been easier to just wrap myself around her and never let her go, but my curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to see Sookie's house without her sharp eyes gauging my reactions.

The morning chill didn't effect me, so I only bothered with slipping on my faded jeans before padding out to the kitchen to find the coffee and maybe something to make for Sookie. I could work wonders with Bisquick, or a sleeve of white bread, eggs and vanilla extract.

Sookie's coffee maker, however, was a percolator, and proved to be a fickle little bastard. The last time I saw one of those was on an episode of _I Love Lucy_ that Pam had made me watch. It was a good ten minutes before I successfully made it yield to my will, and by then, the sweet sound of Sookie's soft yawns were echoing behind me.

"I thought you liked to snuggle," she said in a groggy, little voice that made me smile wide as her arms wrapped around my waist and gave me a squeeze.

"I do. I was just trying to cook us some breakfast."

"I don't see food." Her blonde, mussed head popped out from behind my shoulder, and I threw my arm over her, bringing her around me so I could hold her close like I wanted. Seeing her swollen lips and frizzy hair, knowing why she was so deliciously disheveled made my somewhat softened morning wood pop up again and say hi to its favorite person. This would have gone relatively unnoticed if it hadn't targeted Sookie's belly as its prey.

"Hello!" Her sleepy eyes widened and shot down towards my now severely tight jeans. I groaned and let my head fall back in frustration. I had wanted to make her pancakes or French toast; something sweet that involved syrup so I could lick it off her skin.

I was going to take my time, savoring the quiet of the morning during breakfast, and enjoy shattering it once we had finished. My body, however, had other plans, and my brain was too fuzzy with sleep to argue.

"Mind if I eat first?" I asked her, my voice heavy with want and laced with innuendo. Sookie made a small gasp of a noise as I palmed her ass and lifted her onto the counter before dropping to my knees and pushing her legs apart.

"Eric!" she cried a moment later when my mouth made contact with her heated skin. Her head had careened back, touching the curtains of the window behind her. I devoured her, as if I were a dying man being offered his last meal, except, luckily for me, it was only the first of the day.

When her limbs quivered around me and her body slumped on the counter, spent and shaking, I rose and made quick work of my zipper and jeans. I was inside of her before she could even catch her breath, and her body started to quake all over again; this time, around me, as I worked myself within her, with her.

"I think I'd like to start every day like that," I panted after we had reduced ourselves to a sweaty mass of limbs and tangled hair. Sookie merely nodded her head in lazy agreement.

I reluctantly pulled myself out of her warmth, and Sookie hissed at the loss, clawing at my shoulders with her fingers and digging her heels into the backs of my thighs with her legs.

"No," she moaned.

"But, breakfast," I offered.

"The coffee's done," she said, nudging her elbow at the percolator that had somehow managed to survive the earthquake-like ruckus we'd just caused. "That's enough."

I scoffed. "I'm making you breakfast, woman. I'm then going to hand feed you and hopefully dribble syrup over some very inappropriate areas of your body so I can have the pleasure of licking them clean. Please, don't ruin my fun." Sookie's face flushed ten shades of crimson before giving me a wide-eyed, eager nod.

We didn't leave the kitchen for three hours.

---------

"You don't have to come in, Eric. I just felt it'd be better if I asked in person, as opposed to doing it over the phone. I've already taken so much time off." Sookie's face was contorted with worry, as she rambled on about asking her boss for a few more vacation days. If I had my way, she'd be giving him her two weeks notice, but I kept my mouth shut and did my best to encourage her not to worry.

"Well, didn't you want to get something to eat?" I asked. We hadn't left the house for most of the day, since we were too busy desecrating every surface we could find. The last sustenance the girl had consumed -- besides some much needed protein -- were the pancakes at breakfast. It was practically seven at night. How the hell was she not starving?

"Sure! But... here?" She looked skeptical, this merely piqued my interest.

"Yeah, here."

Sookie gave me a small smile, a shrug, and then an "okay" before getting out of the car. I followed soon after.

"What's wrong with here?" I asked as we walked up to the front doors. "You've worked here for years, haven't you? What's good for you is good for me."

To my surprise, and alarm, Sookie snorted a, "sure." I wanted to call her out on her sarcasm, but was interrupted the moment we stepped through the doors.

"Sookie!" Someone shouted as a whirl of flaming red hair hit me in the face. A waitress had launched herself at Sookie like she'd been flung from a catapult. Jesus.

"Arlene," Sookie said, giving me a sympathetic look as she patted the redhead on the back. "So great to see you again, girl."

"Oh, thank god you're back! Dawn can not keep up for shit! My poor ankles have been screaming at me these past weeks."

"Arlene, I've barely been gone ten days."

"I know! Ain't it just awful?"

"Sookie!" A man called to her from behind the bar as Arlene turned the full force of her sinister, calculating eyes on me. I tried to be polite, but I was too busy watching the exchange Sookie was having with the man who'd shouted her name. There was an enthusiastic smile plastered on his rather ruggedly good looking face. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the fucker looked like James Bond in flannel. Needless to say, that when Sookie skirted behind the bar to give him a very thorough hugging, my fists clenched.

When the man grabbed her ass, I full out growled. Arlene's eyes widened next to me, but I think she was more aroused than concerned. That, of course, concerned me, and I walk away before the woman could palm me through my jeans.

Sookie swatted at the man's hands on her backside -- _that backside belongs to me, Jimmy boy_ -- and pulled away, but not before she giggled and smiled at the bastard. I silently counted down from ten in my head.

"Eric! Come meet Sam," she called out while waving me over to the bar.

I tried not to seethe as I curled my hand around his, and held on tight. We both assessed each other as we shook hands, my blue eyes fighting with his for dominance over Sookie.

"You must be Sookie's boss," I said, putting on an air of professionalism. I had manners, dammit. I could charm this guy.

"The one and only," he shot back with a lopsided smile I'm sure the ladies loved.

"It's good to meet you," I told him, taking the high road. Sam merely nodded back at me with a warm smile.

"Eric owns a bar in New York, Sam. You'd really like it."

"Oh, really?" he asked, eyeing me. It was my turn to give a warm smile and a nod. "I'll have to stop by the next time I'm up north."

"Please do. It'll be on me."

"Sookie?" another voice behind us questioned.

I had to hold back a groan of frustration. Who's asking after her now? On one hand, it made me happy to think that she was so well loved in her hometown, that she had people around her who cared for her, and had missed her. On the other hand, I felt a pang of guilt, because I wanted to take her away from these people, away from her home. Suddenly, I was reconsidering my decision to eat at Merlotte's.

"My god, you look... you're glowing, Sookie. Shit, you're not pregnant, are you?" a husky male voice asked. I turned my head to see who the tactless idiot was, only to come face to face with a fucking Calvin Klein model. How did I know he was a model? Well, I only walked passed the fucker's billboard everyday on my way to work in the city. The man was 5 stories tall, with a package wider than 20 feet. I instinctively squared my shoulders.

Sookie looked anxious and dropped her head at the man's intensity. He seemed to be one of those hands-on types. The problem? His hands were on my woman. I leaned over the bar and whispered to Sam, "Do we like this guy?"

Sam winked at me, actually winked, and responded as he shined a glass with a rag, "You won't."

Great.

"This is Eric Northman, Alcide," Sookie's voice suddenly registered, and I turned my head away from the cryptic bartender. "Eric, this is Alcide Herveaux." Sookie looked nervous. I took this as a bad sign, but smiled nonetheless, raised myself up to my full height, and shook the model's hand.

"Shit, Sookie, I knew when you said you were going up North that you might have some interesting stories to tell when you got back, but I didn't expect you to bring Thor with you!" the man exclaimed with a light laugh. He then moved in and gave me a one armed hug/pat on my shoulder as his form of greeting. I think he just actually wanted to know how much muscle I had on him. I smiled when he pulled back and noticed that he looked a little apprehensive.

That's right, Zoolander, Thor is packing.

In the interest of not letting this situation become anymore awkward, since it was already starting to severely swerve down that road, I once again decided to take the high road, and cleared my throat, "Why don't we get a round, and you guys can catch up? I know I've kept Sookie away for a while."

"Yeah, but she always comes back. That's what counts, cher," Sam said, giving Sookie's shoulder a squeeze from behind the bar. Her face reddened.

"Let's go sit," she offered, and led me over to a booth not too far from the bar. To my annoyance, Alcide followed. I had invited him for a drink, but I didn't expect him to take me up on the offer. Didn't he realize polite dismissal when he saw it?

"Tell me about New York, Sooks? How was Tray's band? Did the gigs go well?" Alcide launched into a series of questions the second his ass hit the leather, and Sookie shook her head as if to say, one at a time. Another waitress that we hadn't met walked over to take our drink orders, and ogled the shit out of me while Alcide continued to chew Sookie's ear off. I excused myself from the booth for a second, after giving Sookie a kiss on the temple, using the guise of opening a tab at the bar to make my exit. I wanted to talk to Sam.

I nodded to Sam as I walked over and leaned across the bar again, my body language clearly stating that I was perfectly comfortable taking what I wanted, no matter who owned the property.

"Who's Alcide to Sookie?" I asked Sam, more than a little curious. Sam threw his head back and laughed. His laughter was warm, but it didn't exactly send a friendly vibe my way, so I just waited for his chuckling to subside.

"Alcide is Sookie's ex." He shook his head and adjusted his belt. "They've been on and off for years. I'm sorry for laughing, but I was once in your shoes, I know exactly how you feel right now, buddy."

I doubted that. "You were in my shoes?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sookie and I dated just after she graduated high school. She came in looking for a job, but I convinced her a date would be more fun. It was only after we broke it off did she started working here."

I nodded and listened, wondering why he was sharing so much information. Was he trying to bring out my inner caveman? It was almost working. I shook off the edge I was feeling at learning that this man had "convinced" a naive and innocent Sookie into dating him, as opposed to giving her a job, like she wanted. Plenty of young girls came into Northman's asking for a job. They were fresh-faced, and doe-eyed little things, perfect prey to the trappings of New York's underground. I'd gladly give those girls a place at my bar, before I'd ever let them slip through the cracks, but I'd never attempt to gain anything else out of their employ. If that was Sam's MO, I highly doubted that we'd ever get along.

Before I let myself assume too much about Sam, still wanting to give him the benefit of my most definite doubt, I opened the tab I promised Sookie, and ordered myself some Black Label. Neat.

------

"Remember that time..." Alcide started to say, for the tenth time that evening. He'd had one too many and was pulling your classic, make the new guy feel out of touch with the idiotic stories of years past, bit. He couldn't get through my armor, however, I was a pro at dealing with drunken fools. I kept my arm slung around Sookie, and a soft smile on my lips the entire time. I'd had several urges to nuzzle my face into her neck, lick the shit out of her and leave a nice little bite mark where all could see, but I kept my temptations at bay. The fact that Sookie had been clinging to my side the entire evening, and rubbing soothing circles into my thigh, kept me both level headed and rock hard. It was a somewhat frustrating combination, but a comforting one, regardless.

Around midnight, Alcide excused himself for a "much needed piss break." His words not mine. Sookie and I finally had a moment to ourselves, and I gave in and nuzzled my face into her neck, giving her a little nibble on her sensitive flesh. She moaned softly, and it took all I had not to take her on the table.

"Let's get outta here," I whispered into her skin. She whimpered in responded and nodded her head in agreement.

"Oh shit!" she said a moment later, making me move back and arch an eyebrow at her. "I forgot to ask Sam for more time off. Let me do that, and then we can leave, alright?" She smiled up at me; her eyes were slightly glazed, evidence that the several stiff drinks she consumed had done their job. I was the only one who'd stopped after my second drink, knowing one of us would have to be able to drive home.

"Go for it, luv." Sookie crawled over my lap, brushing my erection so many times as she climbed over me, I wondered if she was doing it on purpose. I could have easily stood up for her to exit. Strange girl. I smiled as she sauntered off, giving me a little show as she peeked over her shoulder at me and wiggled her ass.

Drunk Sookie is a fun Sookie apparently.

"What are your intentions with that girl?" a stern woman's voice scolded, cutting through my lust addled haze. I turned my head back to the booth to see Paula Dean's doppleganger staring back at me.

"Come again?" I asked, surprised at this woman's random appearance.

"Your intentions with our Sookie. What are they?" She folded her large arms over her even larger chest, the rings on her fingers shining in the dim light of the overheads.

"I don't know even know your name, Miss... ?"

"Fortenberry. Mrs. Fortenberry to you."

I nodded, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Fortenberry. I can assure you that my attentions toward Sookie are entirely honorable. I love that girl more than you know."

The woman narrowed her mascara rimmed eyes at me, before pointing a beefy finger my way. "You'd better be speaking the truth, Yank. That girl is a treasure around here. We all claim her as our own."

I quirked an eyebrow, wanting to know more. Luckily, Mrs. Fortenberry was just getting started. "I can see how you look at her. The deviant thoughts you've got hidden behind those baby blues. Sookie is not a toy to be played with and thrown out. She's got no one, yah here? This entire town has her back because the poor girl has been on her own for years. Her Gran died three years back, God rest Adele's sainted soul, and her brother and parents years and years before that. Now you swoop in, all fabulous pectorals, and that tight ass, knocking the girl off her feet with your big city charm... I don't like it.

"Mrs. Fortenberry, I'm not going to--"

"Don't interrupt me, boy! I'm not finished." She glanced over at the bar, making sure Sookie was still distracted before she laid into me again.

"If this is just a flash in the pan for you, just a roll in the hay with a charming southern girl for kicks, I will castrate you in your sleep, yuh hear? So will every other member of this town. She might look strong on the outside, but the girl needs stability. And if you can't give her that, then leave. Now." She nodded, as if she were happy with her speech and then heaved herself out of the booth and lumbered off. I sat there, shell shocked. I'd just had my ass handed to me by a woman who looked as if she baked a peach cobble for church every Sunday and read stories to school kids in her sparetime. Christ.

I looked back over at the bar with disheartened eyes, only to see Sam glowering at me. I tried my best not to laugh at his expression. I'd had enough of this place for one evening and stood to pay my bill. I threw a couple of hundred dollar bills onto the table and walked over to the bar, slinking my arm around Sookie's waist. She leaned into my side, and put her hand over mine on her hip.

"So, it's okay Sam? Really?"

"It's fine, cher. Anything for you. Though, Arlene's gonna kill me."

"Maybe you should hire that Maudette girl? She's been asking for weeks now for a few shifts."

Sam rubbed his hand on the back of his neck before giving Sookie a reluctant nod.

"We all set?" she asked me, and I smiled down at her.

"Yup."

"Great. G'night Sam," Sookie said with warmth and love to her boss. "Night Arlene! Dawn!" she called out over her shoulder as we made our way to the door. She waved at the rest of the patrons in the bar as we left, my heart sinking with each smile they sent her way.

"You're awfully quiet, Eric," Sookie remarked as we drove back to her house.

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, luv. Just... thinking."

Sookie snorted. "I know, I can _hear_ you. I just don't understand the gibberish running around in your head."

"You're calling my native tongue gibberish?"

"Maybe."

"That, Miss Stackhouse, is not a smart thing to do," I growled low in my throat. Sookie's eyes widened, and I smirked at her excitement. She was so emotive.

"So, Sam," I prompted, being cautious of how I continued, "how old is he?"

"Oh... um. I don't really know. He's never told me. Sam's a bit of a mystery, you see."

I nodded. I bet he was. "But he wanted to date you when you were only 18?"

"What? Who told you that?" Sookie's voice raised an entire octave within two seconds. I almost flinched.

"He did."

"What?!" There went another octave.

"He told me about when you came to ask for a job. Sookie, you didn't let him manipulate you into thinking that you'd only get a job if you went out on a date with him, did you?"

"Eric Northman, you stop your train of thought right now. Sam has always been a gentleman to me."

I was too tired from the night, and a snort slipped out of my mouth before I could control my actions. I don't ever remember grabbing the ass of one of my waitresses as a form of greeting. I wanted to tell her as much, but I kept my mouth shut. Sookie had already crossed her arms and started huffing in her seat. Playful Sookie was all gone for the evening, apparently. Dammit.

The rest of the drive was painfully quiet. I'd hit a nerve, a sore one. Sookie didn't even glance in my direction as we pulled into her driveway and walked up to her back porch. I cursed the silence.

**Sookie**

We walked into the kitchen, and I watched as Eric hung the keys on the hook by the door and offered to take my purse to put on the counter where it lived when it wasn't draped over my arm. He seemed so familiar with his surroundings. _My_ surroundings. It only angered me more. I was too used to being alone. Seeing him so comfortable in my kitchen, with my things, after having met the other men that have been in my life, I just wanted to spit. My anger was irrational, and unwarranted, but... shit, how could he be so comfortable hanging up my keys and looking so perfect in my old kitchen, and not know anything about my past? It seemed wrong. Off. I hated it. How did we overlook this?

"Wanna head to bed? You look tired, luv," Eric asked. He was trying to be sweet, but I wasn't in the mood.

"I'm not tired."

Eric nodded. "Okay, how 'bout a bath? We worked hard today," he said suggestively, advancing on me with dark eyes. I put my hand out to stop him in his tracks.

"No."

Eric's face fell, and my heart clinched at the look he gave me.

"Dammit, Eric," I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the sadness in his.

"What? Sookie, I'm sorry. What did I say?"

"Nothing! It's not you--"

"Don't even finish that extremely clichéd sentence, Sookie. I know I did _something_. You're upset."

"Don't tell me what I'm feeling!" I yelled, proving Eric's point that I was clearly upset. Dammit. Eric snorted, and I seethed.

"Sookie..." he started, trying to appeal to me. I shook my head at him.

"No. I'm not gonna let you sweet talk me."

"According to Alcide, you like sweet talk." Eric's hands balled into fists at his sides the second he finished speaking. I saw from the way he recoiled, that he'd regretted saying that. And with good reason, I was two seconds away from snapping.

"I shouldn't have said that," he started, but I cut him off.

"Damn right, you shouldn't have."

"I didn't mean--"

"Don't pretend to know everything about me, Northman. You barely know me at all! And I clearly don't know you all that well either," I shouted, extremely disappointed by that fact.

"I'd like to change that if you'd let me," he said, stalking towards me and towering over my small frame. His voice was so deep with frustration the windows practically rattled in their panes. I guess he'd finally come to the end of his somewhat patient rope. His eyes were wild and desperate looking. He was utterly sincere, and his intensity made me falter.

I turned and walked to the bedroom. I wanted to get out of my clothes since I was covered in grease and smoke from the bar. Eric followed behind me.

"Sookie, stop walking away from me," he called, his voice slightly louder than it was in the kitchen. I laughed at him.

"I'm not walking away from you; I'm going to change out of these clothes. I stink."

"Woman, you don't stink."

"Ha!"

"Will you slow down? I just want to talk!" he boomed down the hall from me.

"Well, you're gonna hav'ta stop raising your voice at me, or I ain't gonna listen, buddy," I shot back.

"Quit with the nicknames, and I'll lower the volume," he said, now right behind me. I could feel the body heat radiating off of him. I almost staggered backwards from the pull he seemed to have on me.

"Quit looming over me like a god damned vulture, and I won't feel the need to be condescending, Lurch."

"Fine." He took a sobering step back from me and moved to sit himself down on the settee against the wall in my room.

"Fine," I repeated, and folded my arms like an insolent child. I was still angry at his remarks from earlier.

He raised an eyebrow at me from his seat. "Better?"

"Oh, don't be a smart ass," I scoffed before I turned away from him and walked over to the bed to perch on its edge.

I sat and tried to calm my rapid breathing. He lounged back in the settee and tried to stretch out his insanely long limbs. The piece of frail furniture looked like a children's toy with him draped on top of it.

Several minutes passed in silence. We simply stared at each other from across the room, calculating and gauging each other's emotions. Neither of us was going to give up on this angry energy we had pulsing through our veins, it seemed. In fact, I think we were holding onto it as a reminder that we were both so new to each other. We were fools to assume otherwise.

I wanted the anger, and so did he.

But after three tense minutes, I couldn't take it anymore. "Talk," I spat, my arms still folded and pressed painfully in on my ribcage. My walls were up, and I couldn't get them to come down.

Eric smirked at my demand. "Shouldn't you be the one to start? After all, you know most of what my favorite things are at this point."

"Knowing that you like to eat my pussy on a daily basis for breakfast does not count as actually _knowing you_, Eric." His eyes shot down towards my pelvis for the briefest of moments the second I uttered the crude phrase.

I crossed my legs before continuing. "Tell me something no one else knows about you," I pleaded, trying to get the conversation started.

Eric's face cleared of innuendo before answering in a deadpan, "I hate pickled herring."

"Ugh!" I cried. "You think this is a joke? You want to talk? You want me, but you can't even answer a fucking question seriously!"

Eric stood, and I saw in his eyes that he was going to do the whole 'stalk over to the woman and dazzle her with your brooding baby blues' bit before attacking me, so I threw my hand up to stop him.

"Don't! Even. Think about coming over here. Sit and tell me something substantial, or you can head to the guest room for the night."

"And where on the schedule for the evening is it listed that Sookie finally opens up to me?"

"You making more jokes?" I seethed, my eyes narrowing.

"I'm dead serious, luv."

He was; I could _hear_ it in his head. He was projecting his honesty onto me in anyway he knew how. I sighed, relenting once again. I didn't care anymore about having the upper hand; I just wanted to have this venom between us diluted. I'd lead this uncomfortable conversation by example, and maybe we'd get somewhere.

I told him the story about the year I went to live with my Gran after everything collapsed around me. I told him about how stubborn and bitter I was, how abandoned I'd felt after losing my parents and brother, and how angry and resentful a child that made me. My Gran was clever, though, and coaxed the sweetness back out of me slowly, with a quiet demand of respect, and an uncanny instinct for finding humor in even the darkest of situations.

"She never raised her voice to me. Never had to," I told him as the memories started to run dry in my mind.

"The woman should be sainted," Eric remarked. I peeked at him with a skeptical eye, but he just smiled back at me.

With a snort of resigned laughter, I said, "You're right."

"I know I am."

"Don't get cocky now, dammit. We _almost_ had a moment there." Thanks Eric, the second we have a little connection and make some headway, you let your ego rear its ugly head. I sighed and flopped back on the bed, emotionally drained.

I heard Eric move, but I didn't bother stopping him this time. I was too tired to care or fight. I didn't want to. Sookie Stackhouse had opened up. It was his turn now.

"Come here," he said as he pulled me into his side and curled his long body around mine on the bed. We were still in our clothes from the evening, but neither of us cared. I think just being near each other was comfort enough for the both of us.

"I'm gonna tell you something no one knows about me, so listen," Eric prompted as he squeezed me tighter to his chest. "I don't care how fast this whole thing has happened. I don't, and the reason is because I've seen how short life can be, and how fast a good thing can disappear. I know you understand where I'm coming from, Sookie, I know you do. The loss you've had to live with for all these years boggles my mind. I couldn't do it."

He took a deep breath, and I felt him exhale. His breath hot on my neck and the tip of his nose nuzzling my hair. His heartbeat had risen dramatically as he spoke.

"I thought I was done when it came to being content in life, being in love, whatever you want to call it. I'd had my shot. I'd found my woman, and I was happy. Fuck, was I happy." He pulled me infinitely closer to him with each word, as if he thought I'd slip away if he didn't hold me so tight. "And for whatever fucked up reason that beautiful woman that I loved So. Damn. Much. was taken away from me. Whoever was making the decisions upstairs that day was drunk, or something. Or maybe he just decided to single handedly destroy my life with an electric spark..." he stopped suddenly, and buried his head in my hair, murmuring things about bad wiring and old houses. I was confused but assumed that this all connected back to the fire I'd learned about from Pam.

"She died," he said, his words muffled by my hair. "And I was left behind."

His voice wavered as he spoke, and I felt the prickly pain of tears beginning to sting at the corner of my eyes. I tried desperately not to whimper and give away my emotions. I didn't want to interrupt this strange trance he'd fallen into.

"I thought I was done, Sookie. I'd shut out that part of my life, I'd closed the door on giving a shit. It was easier that way. I'd fooled myself into believing that I was content, but then this girl — this feisty, frustrating girl — fell into my world, and I suddenly wasn't so sure.

"You're it, Sookie. If I can't see this for what it is, the fucking miracle that you are, then I don't deserve... " he trailed off as he shook his head from side to side, searching for the right word. Eventually, he gave up and just kept on talking, letting his emotions out. I was petrified to speak, or even move. I just let him squeeze the breath out of me, as he held me with all his strength and poured out his heart, uninhibited.

We fell asleep like that, twisted and curled together on the bed. My ribs felt bruised; Eric had held me so tight, I'm surprised I could actually breathe.

I woke with a start, some time in the middle of the night, and looked over at the clock on the nightstand through clouded, puffy eyes. It was 4:00 AM. I could feel Eric behind me, moving into a more comfortable position. I knew he was awake.

"I just had an interesting dream," he prompted, speaking into my hair. I stiffened next to him. The dream I'd just been having was the reason I woke up. Well Johnnie barking was the reason I woke, but still, his bark was a creation of my subconscious.

"Eric," I said, my voice rough with sleep. "I don't want to go to Sweden." I spoke fast before I lost my nerve, cringing as I told him, not wanting to hurt his feelings. I did very much want to experience Sweden, but the dream I'd just had made me change my mind. I'd once dreamed about meeting Eric down an alley in New York. It'd led me to him. I wasn't going to let down my subconscious now and not take the blatant clues it just hit me over the head with.

"Oh?" I could hear the amusement in his voice, it made me bold.

"No, I think we should go someplace else for our trip."

Eric smiled into my hair, squeezing me tight. "Where would that be?" he asked knowingly.

I rolled over, wanting to see his face in the dark.

"New York."

-------------

a/n part duex:

I gotta add a thank you to **Smfogleman** for her feedback one day when I was feeling fail. Also, if you haven't read her story 'A Royal Engagement', you gotta check it out. I don't read vamp fic, but this is an exception. I love the way she's reworked the story canon, and her Sookie is refreshingly mature, which is always a major plus in my book.

So, did we like the twist there at the end? Hope so, cause I'm not gonna change it. See yah next time in NYC! Woot!


	30. Chapter 30: Home

A/N: Welcome back. I have news...

This will be the last full chapter of NOR. There is a correspondence chapter to be posted after this, and an epilogue, but technically, this is it. *cries*

You all--yes, all of you--have to thank Gallathea for her beta magic and her wonderful supportive presence in the ficdom. She helped me tweak this chapter into something worth being the last chapter of a story. The first version of this was not pretty, I assure you.

*hugs Galla tight*

I'm nervous, I hope you all enjoy what's below. See you at the bottom.

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I woke up stiff in many ways.

I was curled around Sookie so deliberately that I could have been confused for a rather tall, blond cat if someone had happened upon us in such a state. I had strained my muscles into such a severe ball that they refused to move as I came to consciousness and tried to stir. Everything felt tight, or maybe that was just my requisite morning wood poking into Sookie's back with all its might through the heavy denim. The imprint of my jeans' zipper would no doubt greet me on my precious saluting solider the next time I undid my fly. I cringed at the thought.

Next to me, Sookie shifted. "Ow," was the first word from her mouth. "Why on earth did we sleep in our jeans?" she asked, moving her arm up to her neck to work out a kink. Realizing she didn't have much wiggle room, she stiffened slightly against me. "Uhh... Eric?"

"Hmm?" I prompted, still in too much pain to attempt to move my angry muscles.

"Can you explain to me why you have me in a vise grip?"

"You'd have to ask my subconscious," I mumbled, too tired to explain much else.

"We kinda had a fight last night, didn't we?"

I nodded into the curve of her neck, and despite my sore muscles, managed to squeeze her tighter to me. Sookie whimpered, and I panicked. "Sorry," I said loosening my arms.

"No!" she shot back, too quickly, and we both winced at the echo of the sound in the quiet room. She waited a beat and then tried again. "No," she said in a soft tone, pulling my arms around her and placing a kiss on my palm. "I might pass out soon from lack of oxygen, but I didn't mean for you to stop clutchin' on me."

I smiled and ducked my head into her soft hair. "Okay then, but we still have a problem here."

"What is that?"

"I can't... really... move," I admitted. Sookie snorted.

"Excuse me?"

"My limbs, they're not listening to me."

"Is that the work of your subconscious as well, there, Northman?"

"The irony has not escaped me, luv."

Silence followed as I continued to try and bend my body to my will, forcing it to finally _un_bend itself from around Sookie.

It didn't work.

"So," she said, after a few minutes of feeble shifting, wherein I was only able to slide a leg farther away from her hip and, therefore, could stop poking her in the back with my adamant erection. I may be a possessive bastard, but I wasn't about to give my woman a backache from poking her rudely all morning. I'd rather poke her expertly, elsewhere, all damn day, and give her a backache that way. I had standards, after all.

"Eric, why don't I try removing myself from your rigor mortis grip, instead?"

"That might work," I said, accepting defeat.

"You'll have to loosen your arms again, though."

"Ah, yes," I breathed before loosening my hold, like before.

"Lovely," Sookie sassed as she wriggled out from my grasp. I let her go begrudgingly. I didn't like the idea of her trying to get away from me, but looking at the situation with some perspective, I realized that this was for the best, since my body was seriously pissed at me and wasn't going to let me have my way any time soon.

Sookie successfully freed herself and slid off the bed onto the floor, her sleepy little head poking above the comforter to stare at me with tired, adorable eyes.

I smiled. "Your hair is a mess."

Sookie frowned. "It's not my fault," she groaned, bringing her hand to her hair, attempting to flatten the tangles.

"I love the way you look," I told her, wanting her not to fuss over her appearance.

"You just said I looked a mes--"

"No, I said your hair did. And I love your bed head. It alludes to all the dirty things I do to you."

Sookie's face turned ten shades of red, and I stretched my arm towards her, needing her closer.

"Hey! You moved," she said, perking up.

"Well, look at that." I stretched out my legs, hearing a crick here and there pop along my back as I arched and twisted on the bed. When I turned back to Sookie, she was staring at my torso, slack jawed.

"Sookie?"

"Uh?"

"Pondering about something particular?"

Her head snapped in my direction before she blushed again. "You just stretched like a damn jungle cat on my bed. Your shirt rode up, and your back arched. Sweet Jesus, do you know what an image like that does to me?"

"I could venture a guess, but I'd much rather hear you tell me."

She huffed before standing, somewhat awkwardly, and stalking to the bathroom.

"Can't right now," she called over her shoulder, "I have some business to take care of."

I blinked, stunned. Did she just tell me that she was going to go get herself off to an image of me on her bed? Did she seriously just leave me here, on said bed, to go rub one out in the bathroom?

I couldn't decide if I was having a nightmare or a really wonderful, sexy-ass dream.

Crawling to the side of the bed, I fell to the floor in a heap of my long, still-sleeping limbs. My jeans were mocking me as I stared down at a blatant outline of my very noticeable erection.

Time to free that fucker.

Wriggling on the floor like some sex-crazed teen with hopes of getting laid for the first time, I shoved my jeans off as fast as my angry, strained arms would allow, kicking the offending garment off the rest of the way with my flapping feet.

Pants? Fuck pants.

Behind me, I heard the sound of the shower sputtering to life, and I swear, my erection actually flopped over in the direction of the bathroom door as if it were a homing beacon.

"I hear ya, buddy."

Yes, I spoke to my dick. Guys do this. If they say they don't, they're flat-out lying.

Ridding myself of my clothing was one thing, but standing was another. Fortunately, Sookie was one of those people who had lots of furniture shoved into every fucking corner of her room, so I had plenty of things to hold onto as I half dragged myself to the bathroom door. Steam poured out from the cracks, and the light from the inside made it glow, as if I was were hauling myself towards the gates of heaven. I could almost hear angels singing--or that could be the radio in Sookie's kitchen, seemingly always on, and always turned to NPR.

A soft moan pierced through the sound of the shower's spray and I groaned, shoving open the door with my last bit of control. The curtain was pulled around the old claw foot tub occupying most of the space in her bathroom.

Another moan.

My feet moved without my say-so, and before I knew it, I was magically standing behind the curtain and subsequently, behind Sookie.

"Eric!" she gasped, except it wasn't out of passion, but surprise. I could work with that.

"Yes, luv?"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I might ask you the same question," I said, bowing my head to kiss the soft skin of her neck, taking full note of her one hand that was still placed precariously low on her stomach.

"I... uh..." she stammered, swallowing hard. I pushed her hands away and took hold of her hips with my own, bringing her flush against me.

"Tell me," I started, "what use is it to have a man who adores you if you're going to get off by yourself?"

Sookie blinked back at me while I positioned my erection between her warm thighs so it would slide back and forth over her sensitive flesh as I rocked her hips with mine. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but she didn't answer. I angled my thighs higher, pressing more firmly into her heated skin.

"Sookie?"

Her head dipped back under the spray before she answered a barely audible, "I dunno."

I pulled her head back towards mine and silenced her silly half-answers with my lips.

"I'll just have to remind you then," I said, smiling down at her when we came up for air. She shivered under the cascading water. I turned the knob to a hotter temp and then placed both of my very large hands on her very firm rump.

"Up," I said with a smirk, and she lifted her legs as I pulled them around my hips. Sookie caught on rather quickly, since her hand dropped between us, guiding me to where I wanted to be most: inside her.

This time, when Sookie gasped, it was a breathless exclamation of the sensations we were both feeling. I thanked my lucky stars that my legs had decided to start working as I rocked her up and down on my now happy erection, since this was most definitely a time for my quads to kick in and stay focused.

Sookie's arms latched around my shoulders as her mouth simultaneously latched onto my neck, muffling her screams into my skin. She nibbled and kissed and bit down hard as she came, rasping out her cries into the humid air. My own orgasm crashed over me a moment later, and I gave a sigh of relief as I realized there was a nice tile wall next to me that I could lean Sookie on as I rode out my climax.

When I placed her on her feet again, and we resumed showering, I asked, "So, why exactly did you attempt to get off by yourself with me in the next room?"

"Because I knew you'd come in here and do exactly what you just did," she deadpanned as she lathered up her hair with shampoo.

I dropped the bar of soap in my hands. Well, truthfully, I squeezed it too tight and it slipped out of my hands, popping out over my fingers and landing on the ground outside the tub in a small thud.

"You what?" I asked, blinking.

"I knew you'd follow me."

Fuck, was I that transparent? I growled, pulling her back against my hips, once again.

"Seriously?" I asked, nipping at the skin of her neck, tasting soap.

"Mmmhmm," she hummed, and I could hear the smile in her tone. "Now, let me get this shampoo out of my hair," she said, bumping me backward with a shove her hips.

--------

I couldn't look at Sookie's percolator without wanting to throw her on the counter and do some serious percolating of my own inside her, so instead of making coffee that morning, I jumped in her sad, excuse-for-a-tin-can car and drove to a local mom and pop shop for a couple of cups while she dried her hair. She offered to give me directions, but I told her not to worry. Her town had a total of five streets; I thought I'd be able to find a decent little coffee shop without too much trouble.

Twenty minutes later, I was driving back to Sookie's with coffee in hand, having had another stern talking-to by Mrs. Fortenberry, who somehow pounced me out of nowhere in the small café. I wasn't intimidated by many people, but damn, that woman... I shook my head, trying to shake off the feeling. I had major sympathy for the Lurch of a man-boy she'd introduced to me as her son--someone "worthy" of Sookie's affection, she said. The man-child just rolled his eyes at his mother and went back to staring at the pretty redhead behind the counter. I felt like giving him a pat on the back and telling him to go for it with the cinnamon girl, mother be damned. A slight head nod was all I was able to offer, however. Once I had my coffees, there was no way I was sticking around any longer to give the kid relationship advice.

"You find everything okay?" Sookie called to me as I stomped my boots clean on the mat at the back door, signaling my arrival.

"Yup."

"Did you get me a muffin?" she asked, all perky tits and smiles as she bounced into the kitchen, her hair falling long and loose over her shoulders. What the hell was she wearing? I blinked several times and tried to focus. There was fabric, thin fabric. And a silk tie of some kind around her waist. What that a robe? Is that what she called a robe? Sweet Christ.

"Eric?" she asked, her smile fading. I shoved a coffee in her hand and sat down as fast as I could, and started up a few breathing exercises Pam had taught me for when I felt overwhelmed. This would definitely be one of those times. "Eric, what's wrong?"

"What... are you wearing?" I breathed out, trying not to throw her over the kitchen table like a damn barbarian.

Sookie made a frowny sort of face before looking down at her too-small robe and back up again. "This? It's my kimono," she said. "Well, I don't think it's an _actual_ kimono; they'd probably be longer, but Amelia got this for me one year, and it's really silky on my skin, so I use it as a... Eric, seriously, your face... are you breathing?"

I shook my head in answer. No, breathing would allow oxygen into my body, which would allow my heart to pump blood out to my extremities. Or rather, one particular extremity that did _not_ need more blood flow at that moment.

With a dramatic sigh, Sookie sat down next to me at the table, throwing her legs over my own and leaning back in her chair as she sipped her coffee. She made a humming noise as she sipped, apparently happy with my choice of buying her some kind of caramel, mocha, frap-cap, latte insanity. My attention was drawn downward from her precarious clothing choice to her smooth legs. I placed a hand on her knee and ran my fingers down the length of her shin before skimming them up towards her thigh and back, watching as goosebumps appeared on her soft skin.

I wondered to myself if my attraction for this woman would ever die? Or, at least, plateau? Would I always want her this badly, because, while that was an incredibly satisfying thought, it was also somewhat daunting. I couldn't walk around with a consta-hard-on thinking about her all the time, dammit. I needed to work, conduct business, think actual thoughts that didn't contain the phrases "come for me" and "bend over."

"Eric, seriously, you look like a rooster who just realized he ate fried chicken. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, luv. Just thinking."

"'Bout what?"

I scanned my eyes over the kitchen table, hoping to find a decent answer scribbled on the surface, but had no such luck. So instead, I deflected, asking her about this morning. "What was your dream about, Sookie?"

"Oh. Umm," she started to say with a blush creeping up her cheeks, "it was simple really. Just us, in your apartment. And Johnnie, of course." She wiggled her toes a bit, squirming in her seat. "He barked at us. It's what woke me up."

"Johnnie barked? At you?" I asked, smiling.

Sookie's blush deepened. "Yes, well, we were making a little bit of a racket," she explained, taking another sip.

"Ah," I nodded, happy with this news. "What kind of racket?"

"The kind that apparently annoys Johnnie."

"Hmm, it makes sense. He's not used to hearing that kind of stuff," I told her, seriously analyzing the fact that my dog barked at my girl in a dream. Slightly ridiculous.

"Dream Johnnie?"

"No, real Johnnie."

"You mean, you've never... I mean, there's never been...?" Sookie fumbled.

"A woman in my home since..." I trailed off, not wanting to say her name. "Nope. Not unless you count Pam, or the old bat from the first floor dropping off burnt Christmas cookies during the holidays."

Sookie's look of shock was enough to take me out of my dreary memories. Her coffee cup was held frozen in the air, about two inches away from her lips, and her other hand was lying open on her thigh, as if she didn't have the appropriate motor function to control it.

"Sookie?"

"Not once?"

"Nope."

"Not even--"

"Sookie, what kind of a guy do you think I am?" I asked with a bit of a laugh.

"I don't know. I mean, of course you're..." she floundered, gesturing wildly at me. "I mean... just look at you," she said with finality. As if that explanation were the most definite answer she could give me. I snorted into my cup.

"Sookie, I don't know if you've realized this, but I've got some heavy emotional baggage."

She nodded, agreeing with me or simply empathizing; I didn't know which. But her face had turned from flustered to caring as soon as the words "emotional baggage" slipped out of my mouth.

"I'm no innocent. Far from it," I explained, eyeing her, wanting her to know I wasn't perfect. "But, before you, I hadn't brought a woman home as a rule. It wouldn't have been right. Like someone taking Linus' security blanket and using it for curtains or something."

"Did you just reference a _Peanuts_ character?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "Yeah, I think I did. And not very well, apparently."

Sookie smiled at me in a sweet way as a silence fell. I assumed she was waiting, letting me pull my thoughts together. I hadn't been prepared for this; the fact that I started explaining to her in the first place had caught me off guard. But, I couldn't just leave it there. Especially with that bad metaphor hanging between us.

_Charlie Brown, Eric? Really?_

Sighing, I regrouped and tried again. "I brought you home without even thinking. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time... the natural thing. You just fit."

"I fit?" she asked, her head tilting to the side like a curious kitten.

"Yes. You fit. I held you and you molded to me. I laid you down on the bed in the guest bedroom and you curled up as if it were your own. You stole my shirt _and_ my belt, and made them work for you. You just fit with me. In every way."

I'd been staring at my cup as I spoke, but looked up when I heard a little noise escape from Sookie. Her head was bowed, and her feet were twisting together in my lap in a self conscious way. I put my hand on them, stilling their movements.

"I have to go talk to Amelia," she said, her voice sounding firm but small.

"Oh," was my brilliant response. To be honest, I was a little disappointed. I'd just opened up to her in a somewhat pseudo-articulate way--even though she was wearing a robe that had been fabricated by the devil--and her immediate reaction to my confessions was to bring Amelia into the mix?

Yeah, I was kinda pissed.

"What does she have--" I started to ask, but Sookie cut me off.

"We need to go back to New York," she stated, still staring at her lap. "I just feel it."

"But, why Amelia?"

"She's mourning, and I'm leaving again. She's gonna be pissed, but after the dream... and that," she said, gesturing to me, and I assumed she was referring to the speech I'd just made, "I can't _not_ go back. You said I fit." She lifted up her head then, a small smile on her lips and melancholy in her eyes.

"Come here." I pulled her to me with a playful smirk on my face that in no way expressed the lightness I felt in my body at such a statement from her. She wanted to come back to New York. She wanted me. A simple phone call to the airport and a talk with Amelia were all that stood in the way of me getting my girl back to the city. Back home.

--------

"That was interesting," Sookie said as she walked down the steps of Tray's front porch. I'd been waiting on a lawn chair out front while Sookie went in to pay Amelia a visit and tell her of the change in plans. Needless to say, it looked as if Amelia did not take the news well.

I held my arms out to Sookie, and she stepped into my open embrace, burying her nose in my shirt. After a deep sigh, she said, "I'm never gonna make anyone happy."

Startled, I put my hands on either side of her shoulders and tilted her back, so I could look into her eyes. "What do you mean, Sookie? You make _me_ happy every freakin' minute."

She smiled back at me, sad and small. "But, someone's going to be disappointed in me in the long run. I hate this," she admitted before dipping her head again.

I was somewhat confused, to say the least.

"What do you hate?"

"The thought of leaving."

"Sookie, it's only going to be for a few days."

"No," she shook her head against my chest, "no. It won't be for just a few days. You live in New York. I live here. And on top of that, you now own a restaurant in fucking New Orleans. None of those places is convenient enough to make everyone happy, and I hate that."

"Who are you worried about making happy?"

"Everyone!" she cried, exasperated and looking spent. I held her tighter and walked back up the porch to perch us both on the swing hanging there, lazy in the breeze.

"Sookie, I don't think that's possible."

"What kind of a..." her voice trailed off as she tried to pull away from me, angry, but I held her close, willing her to listen. She started hitting me on the chest with the sides of her fists, muttering things like "stupid" and "big oaf," and I tried to hold back my laughter at how feisty she could be.

"Wait, before you knee me in the balls, just let me explain," I said, holding her, refusing to let go even as she abused me. She stopped fighting and stared down at her lap after one last punch to my gut.

"Ouf!"

"You deserve it for saying that," she said, not looking at me. I took a deep breath, needing to word my next statement carefully.

"Okay, I probably did. But listen. What I meant was, it is impossible to make everyone a hundred percent happy, a hundred percent of the time."

I paused, waiting for the onslaught of punches, but none came, so I continued. "You can't make everyone happy. Nor should you have to," I whispered into her hair.

"I gotta try," she said, her voice sounding firm.

"No, Sookie, you don't. If you do, you'll just make yourself miserable in the process."

"How do you know?" she shot back, defiant, but I heard the wavering in her voice. There was curiosity behind the retort.

"I've seen it tear people down. They lose themselves, because while trying to ensure other people's comfort, they forego their own."

Sookie looked up at me then, her brows furrowing. I squeezed her shoulders.

"What do you want, Sookie?"

"Right now?"

I smiled. "What do you want?" I asked again.

"For everyone to be happy," she said, her head falling to my shoulder. I tilted it back up by curling my finger under her chin.

"That's noble, but all _I_ want is for _you_ to be happy. So tell me, what do you want, Sookie?"

"For this to work. For us to work." She bowed her head, focusing on her fidgeting hands as she spoke. "I want to go to New York," she whispered, and my heart did a little leap.

"You mean--" Did she mean for good?

"I don't know, Eric," she said, cutting me off, and chopping down my hopes. "I just... right now, you're asking me what I want. I _want_ to go back to New York with you. I have vacation days coming out my ass, and Sam knows that, so getting the time off work shouldn't be a problem." I stiffened at the mention of his name, still wondering how honorable a person Sam was, and whether the bastard deserved a castration or not.

"I'm not gonna pressure you, Sookie. We don't have to decide everything right now; I'm just happy to have you." I was telling the truth. Even if the thought of having her come live with me in New York was beyond exhilarating, I'd give it up if she wanted to stay down South, closer to the people who were familiar to her and the place she called home.

Sookie nodded, her head falling back onto my shoulder, and I squeezed her tighter to me. Wanting her to feel reassured. Confident in her decision.

"So we'll just do this one day at a time, then?" I asked, my smile growing a little.

She nodded again, her mind made up.

"Okay then. Let's get our asses on a plane."

To say I was giddy--_yes, giddy_--as we walked down off the porch and headed towards her car, would be an understatement.

---------

The engines roared and the "No smoking" sign blinked before us as we started to roll forward on the tarmac, with take-off soon to come. I looked to my right to Sookie's eyes squeezed shut and her hands practically white from gripping onto her seat so tight. I unclenched one of her little fists and tangled my fingers with hers. Almost immediately, she let out a sigh and her body slumped in the seat.

"It'll be okay," I whispered in her ear. She nodded, her eyes still screwed shut.

"Think of puppies, or something cuddly," I told her, trying to quell her nerves. She just shook her head. I sighed, rubbed my free hand over my face and decided on a different tactic. I could work this to my advantage. I mean, as long as she was going to keep her eyes screwed shut, she might as well have some nice imagery to picture.

I leaned in again, this time keeping my voice even lower as I spoke to her. "Sookie, do you know what I'd like to do to you right now, if you'd let me?" I asked, hoping to get her attention. Her legs squeezed tight together and her shoulders hunched. I smiled at her reaction... good, she was thinking the right thing.

"Sookie, if you'd let me, I'd pull you into my lap right now and tear each piece of clothing from your skin with my teeth until you were wearing nothing but that pretty pink flush on your skin. I'd then unzip myself and push the aching and constant hard-on I always have when I'm around you between your thighs, where you'd be dripping and ready for me."

Sookie's breathing had picked up and she was shifting slightly in her seat.

Her eyes remained closed.

"Are you listening to me, Sookie?" She nodded once in answer, and I smiled. "Are you ready for me now?" She blushed a deeper shade of red and bit her lip... she still hadn't opened her eyes. The plane hit a bump and shifted violently on the tarmac, causing Sookie's flushed face to pale. I sighed and leaned into her neck once more to kiss her skin before continuing my speech in her ear.

"Shh, Sookie, it's okay. Picture it. You naked on top of me, while I sit beneath you, thrusting deep inside of you. Imagine how you'd scream my name as I bit down on your shoulder and teased your clit, letting everyone on this plane hear you while you came for me." The engines, as if on cue, started to scream as we were pushed back into our seats from the force of the plane's take off, but Sookie's face remained flushed, and her breathing was heavy. She was in the moment, not thinking of anything except of what I was telling her. Good.

"You wouldn't care if anyone heard you or saw you. You wouldn't even have the ability, because I'd make you come for me, over and over, until your throat was hoarse from your screams and your body was spent from the effort. You'd be nothing but a pile of tired muscles in my hands when I finished with you, Sookie." I bit her earlobe with my teeth, gently teasing her as the plane continued to push higher into the air, pressing us further into our seats. Sookie moaned out and squirmed, oblivious to her own actions. The man across the aisle from us looked over with an arched eyebrow at the sound. I glared at him until he turned back and minded his own god-damned business.

Running my nose up and down the column of her neck, I moved my hand to unlatch her seatbelt, and lifted the seat divider between us. I wanted her closer to me. She hissed as she felt my hands on her abdomen, purposefully pressing down as I pulled the latch to free her. "Shh," I told her. "Do you want me to take you right here, Sookie?"

She gulped and bit her lip once more, her eyes still shut. I pulled her towards me in my seat, dragging one of her legs over my own. "Do you?" I asked, a bit more firmly. She swallowed again before nodding, her eyelids fluttering.

"I need to hear you say it, Sookie," I spoke in her ear, moving my hand to her hip.

Sookie made a small noise, a mixture of a whine and a whimper. I ran my hand down the back of her thigh, urging her on.

"Sookie..." I warned.

"Yes," she gasped, finally opening her eyes. They were glazed over and pitched almost black, her look was so heated. I smiled down at her with pride in my eyes and leaned in to give her a chaste kiss.

"That's a wonderful thing to know," I said against her lips before I retracted my hand on her hip and sat back in my seat, getting comfortable for the ride ahead. She'd survived the take-off without having a nervous breakdown. My job, for now, was done.

Sookie was still leaning into my side when she realized that I wasn't in fact going to take her on the plane in front of everyone. She then flushed another ten shades of red and sat back in her own seat with a huff.

She folded her arms and crossed her legs defensively. "I'm so going to kill you when we land, Northman," she growled in a low, threatening voice.

I smiled back at her, whispering in her ear once more. "I look forward to it, just as I look forward to making good on my promise of having you scream my name until your throat is hoarse and your body is nothing but a shivering mass of electrified limbs beneath my hands."

Sookie visibly shivered and squirmed in her seat once again. I nipped at her neck for good measure, but the refreshment cart was making its way down the aisle, so I sat back and behaved myself while Sookie scowled down at her tray table.

--------

We'd both passed out on the plane, leaning into each other's sides, with Sookie's head resting on my shoulder and her arm draped lazily over my abdomen. Apparently, we had tired ourselves out during the day, and the dimming of the cabin lights worked like a charm to get us to sleep. Odd, since I was hard, and Sookie was frustrated. But, I'd already promised to take care of that later. I assume that was the only reason why my brain let me sleep.

Sookie was still leaning into my side, tired and cranky as we waited for our bags at the luggage claim. For some reason, there were only about four suitcases circulating. They didn't seem to belong to any of the passengers, and we all just stared at them with hatred in our eyes, hoping they'd somehow morph into our own, individual bags.

I heard a gasp come from Sookie about a minute later, and she bolted out from underneath my arm towards a man in a traditional Moroccan robe. It was plain, with stripes running down the length, to match a small fez perched on his head. Why Sookie was making a beeline for him, I had no clue, but I wasn't going to let her run off and talk to a stranger in an airport while half asleep. That wouldn't be too smart of me.

"Sookie?" I called after her, and she looked at me with a broad smile and light in her eyes before turning back to the enigmatic man waiting for his luggage like all the rest of us. That confused me even more.

When she came within an arm's length of the man, he seemed to realize that someone was seeking him out, and his tired eyes fell upon Sookie's approaching form. As they did, I saw the same light flash through them. It was recognition. Sookie knew this man, and apparently, he knew her.

He was good looking--dark skinned with warm brown eyes and large hands that came to rest on her shoulders as he took in the sight of her. I held myself back from making a scene, biting back the pang of jealousy I felt surge through me from seeing this exchange. Taking a deep breath, I walked up beside her with a forced calm and waited for something to happen, for something to be explained.

Nothing was, but Sookie and the exotic man did have some kind of silent conversation before he bent down to retrieve something from the leather bag at his sandal covered feet.

"Rose water," he stated in a distinguished accent as he handed Sookie a tiny bottle and bowed to her. I felt like I was interrupting some kind of ceremony.

What the hell was happening?

Sookie held the bottle with reverence and beamed at the man. My jealousy meter was rising, but I forced my caveman tendencies down. _He just gave her a bottle of rose water, nothing to kill him over,_ I told myself.

However, when she threw her arms around him and squeezed the man to the point of making his face taking on a purple hue from lack of oxygen flow, my vision went red around the edges and my hands balled into fists.

_Someone seriously has to tell me what's going on, right the fuck now._

"Thank you," Sookie whispered to him as she pulled back. I think she was crying, but I couldn't see her face all too well, since my vision was turning bloodier by the second.

"Good luck," he told her before his eyes fell to me, causing my vision to clear and my anger to quell instantly. Sincerity. The man was being sincere.

What the fuck?

Before I could stop myself, I saw my hand reach out to shake his. He clasped my hand in both of his, and he smiled at me with warm eyes that matched his warm skin.

Somewhere outside of this strange bubble the three of us had found ourselves in, the alarm for the baggage claim sounded, signaling more bags being released onto the turnstile. I turned my head to look, my hand dropping from the man's as if in slow motion, and when I turned back to thank him for whatever the fuck he just did, he was gone.

Sookie looked stunned next to me, staring down at the rose water. Everyone else around us just huddled closer to the belt, wanting to grab their bags the second they appeared in front of them. _No one noticed? No one saw that surreal shit just now?_

"Sookie?" I asked, a little dumbfounded. "What the fuck was that?"

"I think that was a sign," she answered, still staring at the bottle in her hands.

"A sign?"

"A good one." Her eyes lifted, scanning the luggage on the belt. "Oh! There's my bag."

I reached out to grab it, and suddenly the mood shifted, and the exchange between the exotic man and us was pushed into the background of our minds. It was as if a fog had lifted. I grabbed ahold of Sookie's bag and carried hers and my own to the taxi stand outside the terminal.

We were quiet as we stood, side by side, waiting for a taxi. It didn't seem like there was much to say. The silence wasn't empty; it was filled with meaningful looks and the hum of a busy metropolis. Wind, strewn paper, and familiar smells filtered all around us, but all I could see was Sookie, staring at the bottle she held in one hand while her other gripped mine firmly.

Whatever had just happened, no matter how confusing, it seemed to be a good occurrence. Sookie was smiling and holding my hand so tightly that I thought I'd lose feeling soon, but I didn't dare tell her. We were together, standing on New York soil.

I couldn't have been happier.

---------

"So," she said out of nowhere, attempting nonchalance as we drove along the BQE. "That stuff you said on the plane?"

Really? We hadn't talked the entire cab ride, and _that_ was what she decided to open with to start up conversation again? I smiled. "What of it?"

"Did you mean any of it, or were you just distracting me?"

I laughed at her adorable question, even though I'm pretty sure she wouldn't consider her question adorable. My laughter only earned me a glare, which in turn, I considered even more adorable.

"Well?" she prompted.

"What part of _it_ were you most interested in?" I shot back, eyebrow arched.

She blushed ten shades of red before answering, "Umm... well... the sex part sounded fun."

"The whole thing was about sex."

"True," she said, and I chuckled next to her. She'd been fidgeting with the bottle in her hands since we'd pulled away from the curb. Either she had an extreme amount of nervous energy to work through, or she was contemplating what she'd seen and experienced back at that airport.

I didn't blame her; the whole thing had thrown me for a loop. A really big, acid trip, down the rabbit hole, like loop.

"How do you know him?" I asked, gesturing towards the bottle. Sookie stiffened slightly against me, but slackened a moment later.

"He... uhh... well..." her voice drifted off. It only piqued my interest more. I nudged her arm, urging her to continue.

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"I doubt that, Sookie. I already think you're crazy."

Her face looked up at me with her pout in full force. I laughed out into the fragrant air of the cab.

_What was with cabbies and spraying a fuckton of perfume in their cabs, anyway?_

"I think you're crazy in a sweet and endearing, southern charm type of way," I reassured her with a smirk.

"Oh, well in that case," Sookie said, rolling her eyes.

"I promise, Sookie," I told her, my tone serious, "I won't think you're crazy. I'm just curious. He seemed so important to you."

I tried to keep the jealousy out of my voice, but the edge was there. Their exchange had been profound; the atmosphere around them had altered, even. It was a tangible change, and it unnerved me as much as it intrigued me.

"I've only ever told Amelia," she spoke to the bottle in her hands, her voice small. I kept quiet, hoping she'd continue. "After the night I met you, I had a kinda wonky dream. I was walking down an alley, and, uhh... Karim was there."

"Karim?"

She held up the bottle, "Yes, the man." I nodded.

"He led me to you... in a way."

"Wait, in the dream?"

Sookie ducked her head. "Yes, in the dream."

"How is that--" I started to ask, but she cut me off.

"I don't know. I mean, it's crazy, right?" She turned to me, her eyes questioning, searching for realism in something that was by definition surreal.

"He was in the dream?" I couldn't wrap my head around it. "You've never actually met him?"

"No!" Her eyes were wide. She looked a little desperate, so I held her tighter. "It was just in that dream. The same dream that showed me where you were. I'd bumped into you in Pam's bar. There was no way I would have known where you worked, or that you even owned a bar! The dream showed me Northman's Alley. Karim did." She looked back down at the bottle. "He sprinkled rose water over me for luck. I thought it was strange at the time, but... Jesus, I mean, he was here! He handed this to us."

I placed my hand on the bottle, covering Sookie's, stilling her fidgeting. I didn't understand it. I didn't understand any of it, and I couldn't explain it. I couldn't give Sookie the answers that she wanted about the fantastical thing that had occurred back at the airport, but at the same time, I didn't think I was supposed to be able to.

"Sookie, I don't think it's supposed to make complete sense," I confessed, at a loss.

I wanted to tell her that I'd had a similar type of dream. A vision that had revealed her, as if the dream had given her back to me. When I woke up, my arms empty, and the bed sheets cold around me, I thought it had all been a cruel trick of my subconscious, but when she showed up that night, I had decided to not take her reappearance for granted.

The cabbie coughed rudely in the front seat, and my head snapped up. We were idling at the curb of my building -- for how long, I didn't know.

"Oh," I said, realization hitting me. "How much do I owe you?"

We paid the taxi driver, and he helped us carry the bags to the steps of the brownstone before speeding off. Sookie sat on the stoop, staring at the bottle of rose water in her hands. I sat down next to her, our suitcases strewn at our feet, and the golden leaves of fall filtering down around us.

I draped my arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. She seemed so shaken. When she looked up at me with tears rimming her darkened blue eyes, I leaned in to kiss her.

"Don't be sad," I whispered against her lips.

"I'm not," she said, quiet and sincere. I wrapped my arms completely around her then, relishing the clarity I felt amongst all the confusion of the day. A strange paradox, but Sookie was here with me in New York. Beneath us were the cold stone steps of my home, rooting us in reality, and around us sprawled the urban landscape of the city, solidifying it all.

"I bet Johnnie misses you."

"I miss him."

"Let's head inside," I said, standing up and pulling her with me.

She smiled as we picked up our bags, slinging a few over our shoulders before clasping hands. We stayed that way as we walked up the steps. Hand in hand, we opened the front door of the brownstone. Hand in hand, we cleared the two flights of stairs. Hand in hand, we walked through the steel door of the apartment...

Hand in hand.

.

.

.

.

---------

Odd and ends A/N:

My other Support Stacie fic is an outtake that goes along with this chapter. The plane frisk gets dealt with. That's all I'm saying. I'll be posting it tomorrow morning, so you will all have it to read while drinking your coffee and watching Sunday Morning on CBS.

Remember! Two more updates to come: a correspondence chapter and an epilogue.

Thank you all for reading. *hugs*


	31. Chapter 31: Correspondence Clash

A/N: Just wanna point out real quick that Lt. Gov. Mitch Landrieu is the Mayor of New Orleans.

Carry on...

--------

E-mail correspondence

(several months later)

_To: Pam Ravenscroft _

_From: Eric Northman _

_Subject: NOLA _

How are things? Lafayette called last night; said you two were making a dent in the restoration of the restaurant. Glad to hear there is progress.

I'm going to fly down soon. Sookie wants to come see it; she's even been dropping hints that she wants to help with the redecoration.

I could tell you this on the phone, but your cellular device seems to be permanently turned off. Will you turn on your fucking phone, please?

I said please, Pam. I never say please.

Turn on your phone.

E

.

_To: Eric Northman _

_From: Pam Revenscroft _

_Subject: RE: NOLA _

I have charged my phone. It is now on. Shut up with the demands. I'm your business partner, not your child. I have a life apart from your little New York bubble. Get used to it.

Tell Sookie I'd be more than happy to have her opinions on upholstery and wall furnishings and whatnot. Lafayette will turn this place into something even Liberace would grimace at. I swear.

When will you know your flight plans?

With love and aggravation,

Pam

.

_Sent via Blackberry to: Pam Ravenscroft_

_From: Lafayette Reynolds _

_Subject: RE: FWD: NOLA _

Oh, _hell_ no! You will not let that cute little blonde with her bouncy tits and long eyelashes sweet talk you into messing up my plans for this here establishment.

No.

Love,

Queen Bitch

.

_Sent via iPhone to: Lafayette Reynolds _

_From: Pam Ravenscroft_

_Subject: Shut up_

I have got myself a woman, and she has raven hair and caramel eyes. Blonde/blue doesn't do it for me, and you know it.

Love or hate it, Sookie and Eric will be visiting, and I fully intend to let her take over the design aspect of this remodel if she wants to. The girl's good, and she needs the experience to build her portfolio. At least she has a few design courses under her belt, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you.

With love and a flaming pile of sequins,

Pam

.

_To: Sookie Stackhouse _

_From: Amelia Broadway _

_Subject: Signing papers _

Hey sweetie!

I was so excited to hear from you about the restaurant in New Orleans! I can't wait to go and see it. Tray and I joked about maybe tying the knot there when all is said and done.

That is, if Eric lets me near it. I'll just have to work my magic on him.

Miss Kenya, the realtor, stopped by today with the papers for the house. We signed them all. She'll be faxing you the copies today, I believe.

I know I've said it a thousand times already, but thank you again for letting us rent out your grandmother's house. And for so cheap! You're a doll to do it, and I know it means a lot to you. Tray and I promise to take good care of the place, and of course, whenever you're in the neighborhood, your old room is still all set up for you.

I don't know why you never moved upstairs to the master bedroom. It's so much roomier up here, but I guess the heat was a factor. Tray is installing AC units in all the bedroom windows this week! I can't wait.

Keep in touch, girly. We miss you something fierce down here.

Hugs to you, Eric, and Johnnie.

Love,

Amelia

p.s. Tray says "hey." Too cute.

.

_To: Amelia Broadway_

_From: Sookie Stackhouse _

_Subject: RE: Signing Papers_

Seriously? That's all you're giving me? Tray installing AC units is the only gossip you can dig up?

I refuse to believe that that is the only thing of note occurring in Bon Temps.

As for the papers, yes, I got them. All signed and pretty. I'm so glad you're enjoying the house, but then again, you always did.

I told Eric about you and Tray wanting to get hitched at the restaurant. He cringed and then ignored me for five whole minutes. I had to straddle his lap on the sofa to get his attention again.

If you can work your magic on him, I'll be amazed.

You had better write me with more details on the town. I miss it. I crave the local news.

Details! I need them!

XO,

Sookie

.

_To: Sookie Stackhouse_

_From: Amelia Broadway _

_Subject: Gossip _

Hoyt finally grew a set and asked out that redhead from the coffee shop. He took her to Merlotte's as a first date and had chicken-fried steak.

I know, classy.

However, the girl did seem smitten the next day when I stopped by to pick up coffee. She got my order wrong, but I let it slide. There might be hope for Hoyt yet.

Arlene is dating again, but that's not news. Andy Bellefleur got suspended from the force for a stint in rehab, but who didn't see that coming?

Really, there's nothing much going on down here. I wish there were. Maybe I should come up and visit you in the big city?

Love,

Amelia

.

_To: Amelia Broadway_

_From: Sookie Stackhouse _

_Subject: RE: Gossip _

Eric would have an outright nutty.

XO,

Sookie

p.s. Thanks for the update on the town. Geaux Hoyt!

.

_To: Lafayette Reynolds_

_From: Eric Northman_

_Subject: Flight information_

Hello Lafayette,

I wouldn't normally bother you with such inane things, but Pam seems to be making it her goal in life to ignore all my attempts at communication. The next time I see her face to face, I will have to hold back a severe urge to spank her ass.

And I'm not talking a fun spanking, either. Don't get excited.

Sookie and I will be flying into Louis Armstrong International Airport on the 18th to see the progress of the restaurant. I'm booking a room online at your hotel after I send out this e-mail. Hopefully you can find it in your heart to put us up for a few days.

Please tell Pam when you see her that if she doesn't charge her damn phone, I'm going to start pestering Felicia.

Yes, I do have her number.

E

.

_To: Eric Northman_

_From: Lafayette Reynolds _

_Subject: RE: Flight information_

Oh my gawd, there is no way you can tease a poor soul like that via an e-mail! When you get down here, you'd BETTER bend me over your knee or I will kick you and Sookie to the curb! To. The. Curb!

I have passed along your little note to Pam. She said, and I quote, "Bite me."

I dunno 'bout you, but I think that gives you free rein to start pestering Felicia.

Saw your res in the system and pushed you up to the honeymoon suite. You try and change it back and I'll bend you over MY knee! All 6'4" of you. Mmmhmm!

Love,

Queen Bitch

.

_To: Eric Northman_

_From: Tray _

_Subject: A visit?_

Hey Eric,

Amelia was too intimidated or caught up with her crystals or something to e-mail you, so I get to do the honors.

We heard from Sookie about your plans to visit New Orleans. Amelia would really love to see Sookie and the restaurant.

She promises not to drink or throw things the entire time. I can back her up on this.

The point of this e-mail, I guess, is to ask if we could come down and see you while y'all are there. I'm aware my girl sorta lashed out at you, but it was during a hard time. She's better now.

Hope everything is going good for you up in the city and down in NOLA.

-- Tray

.

_To: Eric Northman_

_From: Sookie Stackhouse_

_Subject: RE: FWD: A visit? _

She won't destroy the place, Eric. Seriously. I miss her too, and you know how important staying connected to the people back in Bon Temps is for me.

Let's tell them to come! It'll be fun.

Why are you even forwarding me this e-mail? I'm right next to you on the sofa.

Then again, why am I responding to this e-mail?

You're smirking at me. I know that look.

_e-mail discarded 9:43PM_

.

_To: Lafayette Reynolds_

_From: Amelia Broadway_

_Subject: Booking a room_

Hello there!

Sookie told me to get in touch with you about a room this way, as opposed to going through your site. I don't know if you remember me, but I've stayed at your hotel once before. I was probably wallowing in the bottom of a bottle in my room the entire time, though, so maybe not.

My fiancé and I will be arriving on the 19th and staying through the weekend. We'd love to shack up at your lovely establishment if you have room for us.

Any credit card information you need I'll gladly give if I'm no longer in the system.

Thank you for your time,

Amelia Broadway

.

_Sent via Blackberry to: Pam Ravenscroft _

_From: Lafayette Reynolds _

_Subject: Help a sista out _

She's been here one day and you let her take over 5 projects! Five.

I do not approve.

Just so you know.

Love,

Queen Bitch

.

_Sent via iPhone to: Lafayette Reynolds _

_From: Pam Ravenscroft _

_Subject: RE: Help a sista out _

Those five projects needed major CPR. She's here to help. Let her. Or I will sic Felicia on you with nail polish remover and baby wipes.

.

_Sent Via Blackberry to: Pam Ravenscroft_

_From: Lafayette Reynolds _

_Subject: RE: RE: Help a sista out _

Gasp! You wouldn't dare!

.

_To: Lafayette Reynolds _

_From: Eric Northamn_

_Subject: Sookie _

Lafayette, I've been hearing some interesting things.

Considering the fact that I would have to pay ten times over to have this place redecorated after you'd left your overtly garish mark upon it, I would appreciate it if you didn't make it harder on my Sookie. I can see you like her, but the jabs are frankly starting to piss me off.

I don't like being pissed off, Laffy.

E

.

_Sent via Blackberry to: Eric Northman _

_From: Lafayette Reynolds _

_Subject: RE: Sookie _

Ho now. I love the girl, you know this. I'll hush up.

But just so you know, those sconces will find their way back into the restaurant. The bathrooms, if anywhere.

Love,

Queen Bitch

.

_Sent via iPhone to: Felicia Sean _

_From: Pam Ravenscroft _

_Subject: Sconces _

I will let you do anything you want to me for the next several weeks straight if you get rid of those heinous sconces Laffy keeps on trying hang up around the place.

Please.

Yes, I will actually beg.

With love and on her knees,

Pam

.

_To: Pam Ravenscroft _

_From: Felicia Sean _

_Subject: RE: Sconces _

Baby, of course I'll "take care" of that little issue for you. Maybe a fluke accident in which said sconces are shattered to bits? Accidentally run over by a car? Dragged off by a pack of wild dogs?

I'll get creative... and speaking of creative… You'll let me do anything? Oh, that is a dangerous thing to tell me.

I'd ask you to marry me, if I hadn't already.

You'd better be on your knees when I get home. I'm already looking forward to it.

You've left me wriggling and wet in my chair.

Love,

Felicia

.

_Sent via Droid to: Sookie Stackhouse_

_From: Eric Northman_

_Subject: Laffy _

I have never seen him that flustered before. You are a devil, and I love it.

.

_Sent via Droid to: Eric Northman _

_From: Sookie Stackhouse_

_Subject: RE: Laffy _

Oh hush up. He deserved to be put in his place. He deemed me his "sista" for life afterwards, so I do believe I'm finally in his good graces.

It takes forever to type on this thing. How do you do it?

.

_Sent via Droid to: Sookie Stackhouse_

_From: Eric Northman_

_Subject: RE: RE: Laffy _

I have very talented fingers, Sookie. You know this.

.

_Sent via Droid to: Eric Northman _

_From: Sookie Stackhouse_

_Subject: RE: RE: RE: Laffy _

If I could blush over a mobile message, I would.

.

_To: Lt. Gov. Mitch __Landrieu_

_From: Eric Northman_

_Subject: An informal invitation _

Hello Gov'na,

The restaurant, as you know, is nearing its reopening, and I would love for you to come down and see it first hand. The opening will take place over Mardi Gras weekend. I know your schedule will be packed, but if you'd like to visit us in the Garden District and have a nice meal on me, please feel free to stop by.

Regards,

Eric Northman

.

_To: Eric Northman _

_From: Lt. Gov. Mitch Landrieu _

_Subject: RE: An informal invitation _

Eric, it's been a while.

I hear you got Momma Reaux to look over the menu and put her special touch on it? I can't turn down some real, classic, New Orleans cooking.

What you've done for the city by bringing the Palace back into full working order means a lot to me. Your work will not be overlooked.

Count me in.

Give me a call before the opening and we'll work out the details over some red beans and rice.

The lowly public servant in the big chair,

Mitch

.

_To: Amelia Broadway_

_From: Sookie Stackhouse_

_Subject: Updates and such_

Hey girl!

The opening of the restaurant was amazing! I'm so sad you couldn't be there, but at least you got to see it during it's half-way point.

I was nervous as all get out! Eric had to help me relieve some tension on the car ride over. There were press and photogs and journalists wanting to talk to Eric, Pam, and Laffy. A few even approached me! And the Mayor showed up! I didn't think our little ol' restaurant was that important. It was pure insanity. The fact that it took place during the charged chaos that is Mardi Gras probably helped with that initial boost of revenue. I hope business stays steady.

The date for Pam and Felicia's wedding is May 13th. They're having it in the park. Expect an invitation to arrive in the mail any day now, though I understand if you can't make it up here. No worries.

I'm sitting out on the terrace right now as I type this to you. It's sunset. The entire sky is dashed with oranges and pinks, and all the brownstones are glowing this dark red color. It's just beautiful. Johnnie's sleeping at my feet. I swear to you, he thinks he's a lap dog. It's adorable, but can be painful when he tries to curl up on your lap. Poor thing doesn't realize how massive he is.

A small interior design firm here in Brooklyn has agreed to take me on as their intern. Paid intern! I start on Monday. I'm so excited that I'm almost bouncing out of my chair. I'll have to call you and tell you more about it on Monday after I get home.

I'm going to go meet Eric at the bar tonight. Maybe work a shift. Eddie keeps on asking after me. Remember him?

Eric hates it when I step behind the bar, but I get restless, and I just need to keep busy. Ya know? Plus, it's good to have an excuse be near him. I miss him constantly.

I'll end this before I get too mushy on you. Kisses to you, and give my love to Tray.

XO,

Sookie

.

.

.

.

.

-----

A/N: There you are. The last chapter before the epilogue. *sad smile* It feels good to actually finish something -- for once. I hope you all enjoyed this story. I can't tell you how much I appreciate every single one of you for reading and sticking with me through my little writer mind fart there in the middle, and to those of you who found me along the way. *hugs* to you all.

Thank you. So much. Thank you.

Extra hugs and foozles to Galla (beta goddess), FDM (my PF), Chick (my unofficial therapist), and Meads (Momma!) hehe. Love you girls.

**Now, Srs Bsns time:**

So, there might be some changes occurring soon. I'm in the process of finding a secondary home for my stories. _Not a new home_, just secondary. I'll keep you guys updated if it comes to that. I already have a fiction blog, which you can find the link to on my profile. I'm thinking of starting another for my stories, which I will link to on my blog when I get it set up. Hopefully, by the time the epilogue is posted, all of this will be sorted.

I also registered for the Writer's Coffee Shop last night. I'm Zigster on there as well if you'd like to come find me, though, I haven't posted anything yet, I'm still getting my feet wet. It seems like a great place. Many of my fellow SVM gals are on there, and it's open to a bunch of fandoms. It even has a section for original fic!

Link - http : // thewriterscoffeeshop (dot) com

Whatever happens, writing Northman's has been a wonderful experience for me. Nay, a fuckawesome experience, if I do say so myself. To see all the other human stories that sprouted up around NOR makes me downright giddy. AH is my favorite. Not gonna lie. *gets all giggly*

I love you all, you're all awesomesauce, and I gotta run away now before the tears start.

Thanks again for reading, lovelies!

Ta!

Zigs


	32. Chapter 32: Epilogue

A/N: Hello again! I'm back, back again... guess who's back... *stops herself*

Sorry. Got carried away there. *ehem*

Y'all have to thank Galla for what's below. She got me to sit down and write this. :-) She then beta'd cause she's just multi-talented like that. So send many hugs and foozles her way.

I hope y'all enjoy. I'll see yah on the flip side.

------------

May 13th, 2010

My hands were wringing helplessly during the car ride uptown. I was late, and my palms were sweating. So were the backs of my thighs, hot on the leather seat beneath my now-wrinkled dress. Needless to say, I was somewhat stressed.

_And almost rhyming, apparently_. Sweet Jesus.

"Can't you jog over to Park?" I asked the chauffeur, desperate for this traffic to move. He shook his head at me in refusal, his Bluetooth flashing as another call came through. It was probably the planner wondering where the hell we were. I sighed and leaned back against the seat in defeat.

_Again with the rhymes._

Eric was, no doubt, already standing gracefully in his spot underneath the bridge, his long (even longer now since I refused to let him cut it) hair pulled back into an elegant ponytail along his neck, and his tux perfectly pressed. I'd caught a glimpse of him in that deadly piece of Armani a few days ago during his final fitting. His 6'4" frame wasn't just good for climbing; that boy could rock a tailored suit like no other.

To my utter delight, I'd learned from the tailor that the trend in men's fashion nowadays slanted to a more fitted look, with a tighter cut to the pant leg and torso. The streamlined pattern allowed Eric's lean and muscled body to be put on perfect display, all the while maintaining the dapper look of an exquisitely dressed gentlemen. I sighed just thinking about how damn pretty he looked in that damn suit.

Squirming a bit on my seat, I changed the mental direction my brain was heading. Picturing Eric in designer threads that would make James Bond jealous was not a smart train of thought if I wanted to keep myself cool and composed before the wedding.

Now, if only this--supposedly competent but I would gladly suggest otherwise--chauffeur would get me to the 90th street entrance of the Park already.

It was not entirely my fault that I was so behind schedule. The hair stylist Pam had hired, who was supposed to show up at least three hours before our planned departure time, arrived thirty minutes late to the hotel. She was missing two of her curling irons, her assistant was AWOL, and some sort of product that was supposed to keep our hair "rocking the edge of sophisticated and sexified" had been snatched up by elves, apparently.

Her words, not mine.

Playing with a silk ribbon on my dress, I tried to keep my knees from bouncing. I'd been the last to leave the hotel, thanks to my nerves causing me a very untimely and upset stomach. This, of course, also meant that my stomach was now angry at me for not feeding it.

_Well too bad, bucko. You're the one who got all topsy-turvy on me before, so deal. _

To my astonishment, the chauffeur got me to the 90th Street entrance of the Park in an _almost_ timely fashion, and then proceeded to curb the car in a fire zone and help me jog to the carriages that had been set up to escort the guests to the 94th Street 'Gothic' bridge where the wedding was taking place.

I thanked Jeeves, or whatever his name was, ten times over as he helped me climb into the carriage and saluted as I was whisked away down West Drive before cutting over to the Bridle Path.

"Come on, come on, come on," I mumbled as the horse's gait jostled the carriage back and forth on the pavement. I felt flushed, and the heat was prickling at my skin in a very uncomfortable way. Why the hell had they picked May for a wedding? I mean, really. Why not September? Not too hot, not too cold, blissfully free of humidity. Ugh. Hindsight.

Finally, I saw the bridge come into view. Its beautiful cast-iron cut out patterns swirled and curved with the landscape's natural forms, blending seamlessly into the fold. Flower petals had been sprinkled all along the Bridle Path, and clusters of orchids and roses were tied with long, cream colored ribbons to the banisters of the bridge. The tree's branches surrounded antique love seats, Louis IVX chairs, and settees that had been set up along the path flanking the bridge. Hanging low, the green leaves protected the assembled guests with their cool, shaded embrace.

Sure enough, Eric stood beneath the bridge, his hands clasped behind his back with his head held high. He looked radiant. The sun was low in the sky, backlighting the bridge and casting a halo of gold light around the flyaways of his straw colored hair. His pale sage suit blended in with the greens of the leaves and the antiqued creams and doves of the bridge's natural colors along with the ribbons adorning it. The composition of it all was breathtaking.

Literally, I had to remind myself to gulp in oxygen, I'd been so taken with the scene before me.

With a little less grace than I was aiming for, I landed on the pavement, my heels scraping slightly as I righted myself. All heads turned at the sound, and I bowed my head to read the invitation crumbled in my hands once more for comfort. The words steadied my excited heartbeat.

_Pamela Ravenscroft and Felicia Sean_

_humbly invite you to share in_

_their marriage ceremony_

_on the date of May Thirteenth, Two Thousand and Ten_

_at five thirty in the afternoon. _

_94th Street Reservoir 'Gothic' Bridge _

_Central Park NYC, New York_

_Reception to follow at The Boathouse, 72nd St. Central Park_

Pam was smiling at me from her spot at the front of the gathering, her dove and cream striped dress flowing out past her feet in a billowing pillow of air and fabric. I'd never seen her so... positive. The default sarcasm was erased from her lightly blushed face, replaced with a look of contentment and joy. Just how any bride would want to look on her wedding day.

This "wedding" was unconventional, yes, but Pam was not going to miss on out on the opportunity to tell everyone what to wear—including the guests. She specified in the invitation packet to keep the colors of dresses and suits to creams, doves and sages. No pink was allowed, but peach was acceptable. A soft, buttery yellow would also go nicely with her pre-planned decor. The idea was to keep things looking decadent, yet beautiful, as if the antiqued chairs and settees were a part of the park's organic fabric, and the people who perched upon them were merely characters in a fairytale come to life. Everyone had listened, and sure enough, the guests and the set up around the bridge looked like a fairyland built right into the existing scenery.

Eric remained my favorite subject to gaze upon, though. And I doubted anyone would deny me my indulgence.

At the start of the planning for this wedding, Pam and Felicia blatantly forewent using the term "commitment ceremony," which I fully supported. Two brides, to me, just meant more beautiful dresses to try on and watch walk down the aisle. Sure enough, having gone shopping with the girls for their gowns had been one of the best days I'd had in the city, outside of that first time I'd explored the town with Eric.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned. The wedding planner gave me a rather stern look while tapping his watch. I apologized quickly as he handed me a bouquet and fussed with my dress and hair. Lafayette gave me a whistle from where he sat, and the guests all smiled and chuckled approvingly.

I was the missing chess piece, being Pam's maid of honor/ring bearer. Felicia's maid of honor, Ditte, stood to the side of the planner and gave me a small wave of acknowledgement.

"Nice shoes," I whispered to her, pointing to the slate colored, Louboutin Mary Jane heels peeking out underneath the flow of her dress's skirt. She smiled back and mouthed "thanks" before the planner gave us both a reproachful look for stalling.

With me finally present—_God, how embarrassing_—the ceremony could commence, and as the lilting sounds of soft music floated through the air, my stomach twisted in on itself again.

Sweet Jesus, I was nervous.

I wasn't doing very well at separating the imagery in front of me from the logic in my brain. Eric was standing stoic and strong up ahead, and I was walking down the aisle in a dove colored dress holding a bouquet. This was too real not to have a reaction. His smile broadened as I strolled as gracefully as possible down the aisle towards him, shaking the entire time.

With a huge sigh of relief, I reached my stop beneath the bridge and gave a bright smile to both Eric and Pam, waiting patiently for Felicia to appear at the back of the crowd after Ditte had made her way down the aisle behind me. When the music swelled, we all turned to watch her walk towards us with slightly watery eyes, her father supporting her arm.

Felicia had opted for a more elaborate gown, since she and Pam had decided that she'd be the one to make the trek down the aisle. Both her gown and Pam's were vintage Alexander McQueen, but Felicia's was the hands-down knockout. The original design had been a high collared, laced-sleeved creation, but with a bit of tweaking for a summer wedding, the sleeves had been removed, and the high, Victorian collar now served as a more dramatic statement to the dress. The back, likewise, had a "keyhole" cutout that flowed down to the base of her spine, where it met the layers upon layers of distressed chiffon and silk, which continued down to a small, elegant train.

A plain, long piece of soft cream organza had been placed beneath the twist of curls on her head; it cascaded down her neck and back to the petal covered ground, serving as her veil. Her bouquet consisted of two orchids tied in a long satin ribbon, symbolizing her and Pam's union.

She was a vision, and her father at her arm cried happy tears the entire time for his beautiful daughter. In the crowd of guests, I spotted Felicia's mother, a tissue held firmly in her hand and a look of awe on her face. Those were two very happy parents.

Shoot, even I was starting to lose it, and I quickly wiped away the traitorous tear that threatened to trail down my face.

With a final kiss to the cheek, Felicia's adorable father stepped back and took his place to the side of the small gathering of people to watch over the proceedings. Eric stepped up to the middle of us all and addressed the crowd in a clear, warm voice.

"Hello and welcome to you all. It is with delight and honor that I, Eric Northman, have the privilege to stand here and bring together these two beautiful women, so that they can continue on in their lives as a single soul. As one."

Eric's voice was strong and tinged with amusement as he took in the expressions on Pam's and Felicia's flushed, happy faces. I noticed a small bottle clasped in his hand as he continued with his speech and hid a private smile as I ducked my head into my shoulder.

The rose water... I'd taken to bringing the tiny bottle along with me when I felt we needed luck or just some simple reassurance. It was more of a habit than a superstition at this point. I'd forgotten it back at the hotel in my rush, but it was obvious that Eric had had it all along. What a brilliant man I loved.

Seeing it in Eric's large palm was wonderfully calming. I thanked him silently, hoping he could sense that my breathing was returning to its normal state. With my nerves on semi-permanent hold, I was able to take the bouquet from Pam and hand her and Felicia the rings when it was my turn to do so, before stepping back and enjoying the rest of the proceedings.

Eric conducted the ceremony as if he done these things for years. It was actually unsettling how at ease he seemed in front of a crowd, especially since my own nerves hadn't stopped quaking. I assumed they were from a combination of the lack of food in my stomach, my excitement for Pam and Felicia, and the fact that I couldn't get the marriage bells out of my head when it came to Eric. An image of me in a veil just wouldn't quit popping up in my mind.

Shaking my head slightly, I refocused on the union in front of me, happy to see Pam sliding a white gold ring onto Felicia's long, elegant finger.

Screw New York and its stupid marriage laws; this was beautiful, real, and the love Pam and Felicia held for each other couldn't and shouldn't be ignored. I wouldn't have missed this for the world.

When all was said and done, Pam bent Felicia practically in half as she kissed her bride, and the audience stood and cheered as if they'd seen a home run at a baseball game. Lafayette's whistles were the loudest, while Eric's claps of approval echoed off the cast iron of the bridge and ricocheted throughout the park. Any passing tourist or runner would certainly know that a celebration of epic proportions had just taken place. As it was, a large crowd had gathered at the outskirts of the wedding party and hollered for the new couple. Cameras flashed from every direction, and people Sookie hadn't even noticed before the start of the ceremony cheered for her friends with genuine joy in their eyes. It was a classic quirk that came with living in such a city. Despite being filled with millions upon millions of people, New York, at moments like these, felt like a small town. I was all the happier for it.

Eric's strong arms embraced me around the waist as he pulled me back against his chest, humming happily. Pam and Felicia had yet to come up for air, and Felicia's mother was attempting to hide her father's eyes from seeing where Pam's hand had been headed on his daughter's body.

"It's going to be impossible to top this," Eric whispered in my ear. I smiled out at the crowd.

"Why would anyone want to?"

"Because every bride should look as happy as they do on their wedding day."

"Well, every bride thinks her wedding is the best there is. It just so happens to be true in this case," I teased, turning in his arms and pulling him down for a kiss.

"Then you won't mind?" Eric asked, with a rather cryptic eyebrow raise.

"Mind what?"

"Not being able to top this," he said, smiling down at me.

I opened my mouth to ask him what the hell he was talking about when my brain suddenly caught up with my lips. My mouth snapped shut and my eyes went wide. Eric's smile, in turn, broadened to the point that he was practically leering at me, making me squirm.

"You're serious?" I finally stammered out about a minute later after blinking up at him. A lot.

"If you're willing," he said, giving my waist a squeeze.

"Oh my god."

Eric chuckled low in his throat and closed the distance between us with that wicked smirk of his that could always be counted on to make my knees weak. I moaned into his mouth, overcome with emotion, heat and the pure presence of him surrounding me, consuming me.

When he pulled away, his eyes were alight with life and excitement, and I brought my hand to his cheek, taking in all that I could of his beautiful face.

"What do you say?" he prompted again, holding me tight.

"What do you think?" I shot back. Eric smiled, cheers for the happy couple behind us filled my ears, and the thick air of the early summer swirled past us before he descended again and captured my lips with his.

Fin.

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A/N: Okay, so... wow. It's done. *bites lip* My first all human fic is done. :( I'm not gonna think of how many other AH stories have been created and completed during this one's life span, since it's just plain sad that it took me this long to finish, but yeah... umm... blah. I'm so articulate right now. *snort* I started NOR cause I wanted to read something that wasn't available yet in the fandom. To be at the finish line and to know that there are tons of AH stories in SVM for me to devour blows my mind, and makes me squee. I have been known to dance the jig as well. I'm that happy, and a little melancholy, but that's the whole 'finite' thing talking.

Can I get a hug? Zigs needs a hug. She's referring to herself in third person. Oh dear.

Did everyone enjoy it? I hope so.

Time for the corn on the cob: Thank you to all my girls! You support me and keep me focused. I am forever in your debt. My PF, Galla, Chick, Missie, Linds, Søs, Annie, Glam, NYC... all the peeps from the forum and twitter. Foozles to you all.

I know, I know, I didn't win an oscar, move on. I know.

Oh! And I still have the Smoking Section up and running. So if you'd like to suggest fun outtakes for NOR, please do so. If I ever get an itch to come back to Mr. GP and Sooks--which I totally will--I'd love to fulfill a reader's wish.

Once again, and sadly for the last time, thank you all for reading. :-)

Ta!

Zigs


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